


All The Broken Pieces

by Alternate_Alien



Series: Pieces of Us [2]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Cheating, Dark, Denial of Feelings, Dirty Talk, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Guilt, Jealousy, Joker (DCU) Has Issues, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence, Moral Dilemmas, Obsession, Orgasm Control, Praise Kink, Psychological Torture, References to Depression, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, Stalking, Teasing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 65,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28906116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alternate_Alien/pseuds/Alternate_Alien
Summary: He was gone and I was afraid I would never feel anything normal again. All I wanted was to pick up the pieces of my life and move on, but despite being locked away, he still had a hold on me. And whether I wanted to believe it or not, it was only a matter of time before he came back into my life and left me broken all over again.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Pieces of Us [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111250
Comments: 85
Kudos: 132





	1. Break Free

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I honestly was going to wait until next month to post this but fuck it. I'm too excited. I miss Natalie and J and can't wait to get them into lots of trouble again.

* * *

_And now I can't even recognize myself anymore_  
_You turned me into this_

* * *

“It’s good to see you again, Natalie.”

Dr. Greenburg’s office was stuffier than it usually was. I could tell she was running the heat since the temperatures had dropped the past few days outside. Winter in Gotham was usually a miserable affair for someone like me. It wasn’t like I preferred to be hot, but this kind of heat, dry and pumping unrelenting out of the vents, was not the warmth I preferred.

I smiled and leaned forward to shed my jacket as the woman across from me reached for a small, black box on her desk. With a push of her finger, soft, ambient sounds played out through the speakers and I sat back on the couch to pull my jacket over my lap.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Um, yes, thank you.” I’d been seeing Dr. Greenburg for the past three months and every time, it still felt like I was speaking to my high school counselor. She was older than I was by at least two decades, with graying hair that had once been dark. Her presence was calming and judging by the multiple degrees framed on the wall above her desk, I could tell she was dedicated to her profession.

But that didn’t make it easier for me to talk to her or open up about things.

Especially when the things I was opening up about were things I still wasn’t comfortable talking or thinking about. Of course, I didn’t give her the whole truth, and thankfully, so far, she had been very understanding about that.

What I had given her though, made me feel vulnerable as if I had though. The last few sessions we’d had, I had told her about the man that left me broken and torn, about how the past year, I had struggled just to feel like myself again. Usually, after I finish telling her my feelings from one session to the next, Dr. Greenburg would reassure me, make me feel heard, and remind me that our goal was to help me feel normal.

I was still waiting for that to happen.

I didn’t blame her though. A lot of it was my own issues; my stunted emotions, and my inability to come to terms with my own feelings toward him.

“How has your week been?” Dr. Greenburg started, turning in her chair to face me. She crossed her ankles beneath it and I took a deep breath. This was actually the worst part about therapy. I never knew where to start.

“It’s been alright. Work is fine. A bit busy.”

She nodded and I lifted my eyes to meet hers. The wrinkles in the corners of her eyes creased as she smiled and waited patiently for me to continue. When I didn’t, Dr. Greenburg turned back to her desk and pulled a small notebook onto her lap. It was what she used to keep notes through our sessions and I took another deep breath to prepare myself.

“Last time,” she started, flipping back through the page of notes she kept. “We ended the session by discussing some self-destructive tendencies that you think you should work on. Did you think about any of those since we last spoke?”

And just like in high school, when the counselor would pull me into her office to discuss why I was caught skipping class to smoke cigarettes behind the gym, I could feel myself closing up. I felt guilty before I ever admitted anything. Nervously, I reached up to tuck my hair behind my ear and tried to think back to my week.

I hadn’t really had time to think about anything but work and the usual problems I dealt with. Which, in itself was a self-destructive tendency. Avoiding problems, avoiding thinking about the things that made me miserable was the one I was most familiar with. She seemed to pick up on my hesitation and decided to move on, thankfully.

“How are you sleeping?”

“Fine. Okay, that was a lie. I try to go to sleep when you suggested--around ten o'clock every night. But I just lay there and stare and think."

Dr. Greenburg nodded and made a quick note on the page in her lap. "And what do you think about?"

The voice in the back of my head--the one I _loathed_ to hear from--was quick to answer her in the safe place of my mind. _Him_.

It had been over a year. When was it ever going to stop? Of course, it was hard to forget him when he sent me gifts every few months. And each time, I would open them to see photos of myself. It was proof that he would never let me go. How long could he keep this up? Was he not busy in prison, or at least drugged up with antipsychotic pills?

I shook my head and shrugged, looking away from her to one of the framed pictures hanging on the wall to my left. Black and white landscape photographs, arranged three across and two down, were placed on the wall. There were beach scenes, forests, a sunset...things to help distract and calm the mind.

The last few sessions with Dr. Greenburg, I'd focused on the one in the center; a nighttime view of the Gotham city skyline. I looked at each of the buildings with the endless windows and lights and wondered which one was the penthouse I had met him in.

Turning back to look at Dr. Greenburg, I sighed. "I think about the first night I met...J." Just saying that simple letter felt like too much--like somehow she would figure it out and know the truth. The bubble of panic that seemed to lodge in my throat was the same as it was the first time I had uttered the letter out loud. "I just don't want to think about it anymore."

"Walk me through what you feel when you think about that night, Natalie. Do you feel regret or anger?"

"Regret, mostly. I look back at myself and wonder how the hell I let it get as bad as it did. I had hated him from the moment we first met and still...I let him do so much to me." This was the part I hated most. We didn't talk about him every time, maybe three times so far, but every time I said anything about him, I felt sick to the stomach. My body was so used to being on the edge around him or at the mere thought of him that I could feel the adrenaline pumping through me right now.

I wanted more than anything to get up and leave and just bury these thoughts back in the depths of my mind. Out of sight, out of mind was the best policy.

"I hear the blaming words you use about yourself again, Natalie. You say you _let_ him do this to you, but you didn't. Instead of thinking of it that way, start making a habit of recognizing that wording. He did this to you. He was the abusive one. You were the victim, okay?"

A victim that begged for it. A victim that had _liked_ the things he did to me. What kind of victim _misses_ her tormentor?

Tears burned the edges of my eyelids and I blinked them away quickly. This was a reason I hated opening up to people. I was a crier. When I was angry, sad, stressed, you name it, I cried. Or threw up, but I wasn't that bad yet.

Nodding, I looked down at my hands in my lap and tried to rethink the way I spoke about myself. It was easy to say that I would be able to do the things she suggested, that I wouldn't blame myself anymore, but if I wasn’t to blame, then who was? I could tell myself every day that I never wanted what he did to me, that I never wanted more from him and I'd be lying.

Through the haze of tears, I lifted my head and stared at Dr. Greenburg. "I don’t want to think about him anymore. Why can’t I stop?"

"I wish I had an answer for you, but thoughts are complex, Natalie. We can't always explain them or stop them from happening.” God, I wanted nothing more than to stop these thoughts from popping into my head. “But before you can break free of these thoughts, let’s work on the way you think about them. Now, let’s try some thought exercises…”

.

.

Winter in Gotham brought piles of dirty snow and slush that clumped along the sidewalks and streets and it was a total nuisance. I wiped the mush from my shoes on the doormat outside my apartment building and hurried inside. The warmth of the lobby wasn’t as sweltering as Dr. Greensburg's office had been earlier.

It was a cozy kind of warm in the apartment building and I blew the hair from my face as I made my way to the mailboxes that lined the wall beside the elevators. Every time I put my key into the door, I held my breath. There was no rhyme or reason to the gifts he sent me and so I never knew if I would be greeted by another box.

This time, I pulled the door open and let out a sigh of relief. Nothing but a beauty magazine and a bill. Thank god.

Bills I could handle. More photos of myself and cryptic messages typed haphazardly on playing cards? My mental state just wasn’t up to handling that today. And besides, I still had all the packages he had sent me over the past year. Every card and photograph, the ribbons that held the boxes together and even the tissue paper was locked away up in my bedroom. 

I hated to admit that I took them out and sorted through them occasionally. I should have burned them. 

I turned on my heel with my mail tucked beneath my arm and headed for the elevators across the hall. The doors opened and thankfully, there was no one inside waiting to get off. With a sigh of relief, I stepped in, pressed the button for the fifth floor and leaned back against the wall.

Therapy was always mentally draining--even on the days when I didn’t bring him up. Growing up, talking openly about feelings and emotions just wasn’t something my family and I did. We were private people and I’m pretty sure my father still refuses to believe I’m older than 12. 

The day I got my period for the first time, he had left the room with the excuse to go fix the lawnmower...even though it was the middle of December and he hadn’t mowed the grass for months. 

He was a man of few words and had no time for discussions about mental states or feelings. My mother was no different so it wasn’t surprising I grew up to be so private with my thoughts. 

Thinking about my family only made me groan. Christmas was coming up in a few weeks and I’m sure they’d be inviting me back home to celebrate. I had put it off so many times it was going to be hard to think of an excuse this time.

From my purse hanging at my side, I heard the familiar ringtone and I dipped my hand inside for my cell phone. The name on the screen made me smile and I answered the call. 

“What happened this time?”

“Why do you always assume something happened?” Abby huffed on the other end. “I don’t only call you when I’m having Brad trouble, you know.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry for assuming. So, what’s up?”

She hesitated to answer, making my smile widen as the doors of the elevator slid open. I stepped out onto the fifth floor and turned to the left. My apartment was the last one on this side of the hallway, tucked away in the corner. 

“Well, I must admit that I did call to ask you a favor and it _does_ have to do with Brad.” 

I scoffed as I slid my key into the lock and twisted it. “As long as I don’t have to work catering anymore, I’m down for favors.”

Abby laughed and I reached for the light switch inside the door. Even after living here for over a year, I still had barely decorated the place. It felt strange to, like I knew it was only temporary. I had the basic pieces of furniture--a couch, bed, tables and chairs--but not much hung on the walls. 

Each time Abby came over, she brought a little piece to hang up or decorate and I didn’t stop her. It was because of her that I actually had curtains over my windows and not sheets I had hung up. 

“Well, I know you’ve been seeing that cutie from your work the past few weeks and I thought it would be a ton of fun to go on a double date!” Of course she thought it would be fun. It sounded like a nightmare to me.

I _had_ been seeing a guy from work, but he wasn’t my coworker. Matthew Hawthorne was in Gotham on business with his father. They were both real estate investors that were checking out some areas in the city and the firm I worked for just happened to be the lucky ones picked. 

We had met one another by literally running into each other. I had been running rather late one morning and threw the door to the office open as Matt was coming out, nearly slamming it into his face in the process. He had been smitten, despite nearly needing a nose job, and I had been wary to let him in. 

It took a few days, but he finally convinced me to go out with him and it's been...fine. 

“A double date?” I hoped she couldn’t hear the uncertainty in my voice. “Where would we go?”

“Oh, just for dinner and drinks somewhere! I’m dying to meet your new beau and this would be a perfect time.”

Translation: she wanted to assess Matthew to make sure he was good enough. I loved her for it, but I wasn’t sure I even wanted to see this guy long term yet. He didn’t even live in the city. 

“I mean...He mentioned something about taking me to see an opera or something--”

“Oh my god, are you serious? That’s so classy!” 

I laughed and moved into the kitchen, dropping the mail and my purse onto the counter. After being in the cold for the past several blocks, I was dying for a hot shower--or maybe a bath. Relaxing in the tub with bubbles and a glass of wine would be a perfect way to unwind after therapy.

The thought made me frown. Wasn’t therapy supposed to make me feel lighter and more relaxed? 

“I don’t know,” I admitted, cradling the phone to my ear. “I’m not really the kind of person that goes to an opera.”

“Oh, hush. You once told me you wanted to snag a millionaire, didn’t you? Well this is what millionaires do. They go to the theatre, they attend fundraisers and benefit galas.”

Except, Matthew wasn’t a millionaire. His father was, but I wasn’t dating his father. The thought made me wrinkle my nose and I stood inside the bathroom, kicking my shoes off. Who would have thought that my ultimate, teenage fantasy was finally somewhat playing out and I was left feeling so...bored with it.

“I guess. I’ve only been seeing him for a few weeks, you know?”

“Have you slept with him?” Abby asked. I rolled my eyes at her question. She was so blunt and to the point it nearly made me laugh. 

“Um, not exactly. The timing hasn’t really been right.”

It was a lie. He was clearly interested and god knows I needed to get laid but there was just some weird block in my mind. I panicked at the mere thought of bringing him back to my place, of being alone and naked with someone else. He would see my body, see the places that had once been bruised and cut--the J shaped scar that still lingered on my flesh.

“But you like the guy right?” Her question pulled me out of my thoughts and I swallowed. 

“Y-yeah. He’s nice and has been pretty great so far.” 

“So, what’s the hold up?”

I turned to the mirror above the sink and stared at myself. So much was different now. I was a different person. The pieces of my life were finally starting to click back into place. And yet, my head still felt as if it was stuck in the past. 

What was I waiting for? I had no idea. 

Ducking my head, I squeezed my eyes shut and knew that I couldn’t hesitate answering her much longer. She was annoyingly astute and picked up on things like that quickly. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I need to get laid.”

Abby laughed and I breathed a bit easier. “Yeah, you really do, Nat. So, this double date. You free this Friday?”

We agreed that we would plan to meet up for dinner and drinks on friday--the four of us. It gave me five days to figure out if I actually wanted to go through with it. Having my friends meet Matthew seemed like a big deal, but I knew it wasn’t. A double date didn’t mean we had to get married or even sleep together. It was just a date.

I gave Abby the excuse of needing a shower and she told me goodbye, but made me promise not to cancel on her. I promised and hung up the phone, setting it down on the edge of the sink. For a few minutes, I stood there and stared down at my hands on the white porcelain.

The bright red polish on my fingernails was too much of a contrast against the bright white, too much of a reminder of that red painted, Glasgow smile that I wanted to forget. I squeezed my eyes shut and recalled the last time I had seen it in person.

He had wiped the blood from my face after shooting Daryl in the head. He had looked in my eyes and called me sweetheart. And even now, over a year later, the memory of his voice made my stomach flutter. 

I put a hand to my stomach, my palm pressing into the scar he left on me, and took a deep breath. The bath could wait. I needed to do something else. 

Turning on my heel, I hurried to my bedroom and shut the door behind me, though there was no one else here to see what I was about to do. Outside, police sirens made chills roll down my spine but they raced on down the street. I crossed to my bed and knelt down to the floor, bending to reach for the box I kept hidden in the shadows.

It slid across the floor and I took the lid off, tossing it onto the mattress. Within the box, I saw my own face in the photos he sent me. Black and white photographs, at least fifty of them now, were stacked to one corner but I ignored them. He sent me a new package every few months and they barely even phased me now.

I knew he was watching me. Even before he had been captured and arrested and thrown in Arkham, he’d been watching me. And I’d be lying if I said knowing he was still watching me hadn’t been a factor into why I agreed to go out with Matt in the first place. I wanted Joker’s henchmen to take photos of us, to send them back to him. I wanted him to see that I moved on and I hoped he’d do the same.. 

My fingers dipped past the folded tissue paper and the assortment of ribbons he had sent. The silk against my fingertips made me shiver and I pulled one out, staring at the rich hues as the fabric caught the light. 

Though it was pointless, though I knew there’d be nothing there, I brought it to my face and inhaled. It didn’t smell like him--no burnt matches, no gasoline fumes. I wondered if he smelled different now. I wondered if he smelled like the inside of a prison. 

It wasn’t often that I did this--took little trips down my fucked up memory lane--but when I did, I knew it was better with wine. Alcohol dulled the pain, made the guilt and angst fade and left me with nothing but the raw thoughts that I wouldn’t remember the next day.

I didn’t bother with a glass. I hurried to the kitchen, grabbed the bottle from the fridge, and made my way back to the bedroom, the ribbon still tangled in my fingers. I sat on the floor for the next hour or so, drowning the thoughts I was afraid to face and the only comfort I had was knowing that he was locked up, deep within Arkham and he could no longer reach me. 

I woke several hours later on my bed, face down in my pillows with the box of twisted momentos laying next to me. The room was dark and I narrowed my eyes on the window. It must have been late and I wasn't sure what had woken me up. A noise…

Groaning, I buried my face back into the pillows and pulled my arm out from beneath me. My fingers tingled and I flexed them a few times to get the feeling back into them. As I flopped onto my back and decided to go back to sleep, I heard the noise once more.

Something was rumbling in the other room and a soft, little chime would follow. My phone.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I must have left it in the bathroom. 

Pushing the box aside, I stood up and left my bedroom. The lights were still on in the living room and I winced at the brightness. The bathroom was even worse. White tile and light blue walls reflected the overhead light, making me wince. 

With a hand shading my eyes, I found my phone exactly where I had left it on the sink. I turned it over and blinked down at the screen. Three missed calls and seven text messages? 

What the hell? 

They were all from Abby. I hurried back out into the hall, reaching up to slap the light switch on my way out and pulled up her texts. 

**Abby** : Nat, are you awake? 

**Abby** : turn on the news

 **Abby** : please answer your phone. 

**Abby** : Natalie, I know you didn't fall asleep this early.

 **Abby** : call me when you get this

 **Abby** : are you watching this???

 **Abby** : call me in the morning as soon as you wake up 

My heart was thundering in my chest as I hurried into the living room and snatched the television remote off the arm of the couch. Whatever channel I had left it on last night was playing an old black and white movie and I quickly flipped to the local news stations. 

The scrolling text at the bottom had "breaking news" in all caps. An anchor woman was speaking and I pressed a shaking finger over the volume button. 

"...aren't certain how the prisoners gained access to the materials used to make the explosives. Police are urging citizens to stay inside, lock your doors, and do not attempt to apprehend any of the escaped convicts. Again, if you're just tuning in, three maximum security inmates at Arkham Asylum have escaped."

Her image switched to an overhead view of the asylum. A helicopter flew over, shining a spotlight down on the prison grounds. The police presence was massive and I could only stand there, in the middle of my living room and stare at the television. I wasn’t even sure I was breathing. 

My body didn't react. I had no thoughts. I kept listening to the report, waiting for the anchor woman to confirm what I already knew. 

"Police are on the scene and have told us here at Channel 6 that an explosive device was used to blow a hole in the side of the asylum. We have that image for you now."

Something bubbled in my chest at the sight of the crumbling brick of the building on tv. A fire was burning from within and firefighters were blasting it with water. The image switched back to the aerial view and I shook my head in disbelief. This wasn't real. 

I had fallen asleep earlier and this was just a nightmare--one of many that I'd had the past year and a half. 

Again, that same bubble in my chest popped up and I let out a small peal of laughter. It was a quick sound, barely a giggle but echoed in the momentary quiet from the television. The screen switched back to the anchor woman. She had a finger to her ear and was nodding. At the bottom of the screen, the rolling text gave a brief summary of what she’d already said.

It wasn't until she spoke again that my eyes widened. 

"Okay, we just received confirmation that one of the inmates that has escaped was the Joker. Again, if you are out, get back to your homes and lock the doors. These men are armed and dangerous and--"

I pressed the mute button on the remote and let it slip out of my hands. It hit the floor and I reached up to rake my fingers through my hair. With tears burning my eyes, I leaned my head back and stared up at the ceiling. Another strange bubble of laughter rose in the back of my throat and I had no choice but to let it out. It sounded hysterical and startled me, as if it wasn’t actually coming from my own mouth. 

"Fuck you," I whispered, half sobbing and half laughing, as if he could actually hear me. "You fucking prick."

My hands fell to my sides and I choked back a sob that ached my chest to be free. There was nothing else I could do but stand there and stare at the ceiling. No amount of crying could help me. There was nothing left to do but wait. 

After all, he had told me all along that he would come find me again. In his cryptic notes, in the typed, uneven letters on the playing cards. He had told me that he would see me soon, that he hadn't forgotten about me, and would find me again. 

And I had been so naive to think they could keep him locked up. He had been a caged animal, trapped and chained, and now that he was free, I knew he would stop at nothing to finish what he'd started. 

  
  


* * *


	2. Miss Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short-ish chapter with quite a big ending...  
> ;)

* * *

_yes it's been quite a while_   
_Last time I saw you was when lust was in style_

* * *

Oh, I forgot to mention, like in Tear Me To Pieces, I'm making a Spotify playlist, and each of the lyrics that  
I post at the start of the chapter are the songs that I think fit the mood the best.  
You can listen or follow along  
[by clicking here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3hndWRuc3bJLNBewhmZbki?si=u_InNFzgS0q9ubOeq5W18A)

And, if you want the Tear Me To Pieces soundtrack,  
[you can find it here.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6ydz2MMA5YwZdWkwQfMGv2?si=NTO8N8qiRV-ZgjMgR8yt_Q)  
Thanks!

* * *

  


Cops were patrolling the city at all hours of the day. I didn’t envy their jobs right now or the tremendous stress they were certainly under at the moment. Even when a curfew was enacted for the city, I didn’t complain. Where was I going to go anyway? 

In doors, in the relative safety of my own apartment, was exactly where I wanted to be. I only left to go to work and my fridge was starting to show it. The police and the mayor kept telling us that it was important to only go out for the absolute necessities. Of course, no one listened and there were still people out walking the streets at midnight and later.

They would get fined, but in the end, people were going to do what they wanted to do anyway. And the perfect example of that was sitting right beside me on the couch. It was only an hour to the impossible-to-enforce 7 PM curfew and Abby was at my apartment. She didn’t live too far away but she also didn’t seem to care that the time was ticking.

She dipped her hand into the bag of gummy bears she’d brought over and popped a bright green one in her mouth, never taking her eyes off the television. Like everyone the past few days, I had Gotham City News on and muted. “God, I still can’t believe this.”

I didn’t look over my shoulder to see what was on the screen. They’d been playing any and all possible footage they had of the Joker, even from last year, for the past seventy-two hours. He was once again, the talk of the town. Knowing he was more than likely thrilled about that made me want to laugh. Or cry, I didn’t know which. 

“You’d think they’d have kept a better eye on a guy like that.”

I reached for the bag of candy and retrieved my own handful. “Do you really expect anyone in Gotham to know what they’re doing? The police couldn’t even pin him down.”

At this, she finished the mound of gummy bears in her hand and rolled her eyes as she chewed. I was glad she was here, but all we’d done is talk about the one person I was trying not to think about. And the one person I couldn’t get out of my head--even before this.

For some reason, I didn’t think he would come for me. Why on earth would he come back into a city filled to the brim with police all searching for him? If he was smart--which I knew he was--he’d be laying low and trying to stay as hidden as possible. Abby shook the hair from her face and shrugged.

“Yeah, but I also figured their memory could last longer than a year and a half. It’s like they just forgot how dangerous he is.” She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, I still sometimes have nightmares about the night we saw him.”

I wanted to ask  _ which night _ but quickly clamped my mouth shut. The only night  _ she _ saw him, other than on the news, was the first time J had touched me. I remembered it as well, and sure, sometimes I had nightmares about that first glance he sent my way, but mostly, I remembered the way he had reached up to brush the drops of champagne from my face. 

It was one of the few tender moments he gave me. Everything else had been nothing but brutality and manipulation.

Abby reached for her glass of wine sitting on the coffee table in front of us and laughed softly as she shook her head. “You know,” she said around the rim of the glass before taking a sip. “For a while, I thought I had seen him say something to you that night.”

Cold seeped into my veins and I slowly looked up at her. Was the guilt written across my face? I could feel it surfacing after being hidden away for so long. It itched just beneath my skin and I reached up to scratch at my jaw where it tingled. Somehow, I found my voice. “What do you mean?”

Again, she shrugged and stared down into the glass in her hands. “I just--I thought I saw him standing in front of you. There was so much chaos though, I couldn’t be too sure.”

For several seconds, I couldn’t speak--couldn’t breathe. We stared at one another and I knew the longer I waited to say or do anything, the more suspicious I looked. But for the life of me, I couldn’t think of anything. There was nothing in my head except for the panic that was slowly creeping through me. Slowly, but powerfully.

The edges of my vision grew blurry and I blinked, finally turning away from her. I couldn’t take the look in her eyes anymore. Not accusing just...curious. It made my chest feel tight as if someone was sitting on it. 

“Hey,” Abby said quietly, reaching over to put a hand on my arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I managed to croak. I cleared my throat and stood, snatching my own glass of wine from the table. No more for me. “I think the wine and gummy bears are making my stomach hurt.”

“Oh.” As I circled around the couch to head into the kitchen, Abby turned and watched me. “Drink some water.”

With a nod, I dumped the rest of the wine into the sink and thrust the glass beneath the stream of water. I filled it halfway and brought it to my lips, hoping that the cold would shock some of this dread and panic away. My eyes squeezed shut as I downed the entire glass in one go.

From the couch, Abby turned back to the television and I stood at the sink for a minute longer, just trying to remember how to breathe. Why had I just stared at her? How hard was it to fake a laugh and tell her not to be ridiculous? It was like I couldn’t fake it anymore. I was so tired of faking it. 

And now that I had poured two glasses of water down my throat, my stomach was starting to protest and I dragged in a deep, shaking breath. All of this lying and pretending was going to be the death of me. Either that, or  _ he _ was.

“Something’s happening,” Abby said, pulling her legs underneath her as she reached for the remote. 

The volume came back on and I turned to face the same reporter who had been working for the past few days straight. He was on the side of the road where a large police presence sat. It looked like they were in the middle of nowhere, with thick forests around them. 

“We’re live on the scene where one of the escaped inmates of Arkham Asylum has been captured--” Blood rushed to my face, settling in my ears so that all I could hear was my own heartbeat. Before I knew I was moving, I was at the couch again, sitting down on the edge of the cushion. If they had captured Joker, they would be quick to tell us. “We’re not being told which inmate has been apprehended, but the local police, as well as Gotham’s own officers, have confirmed that the inmate managed to make it about four hundred miles north of Gotham. It’s believed that the prisoners are moving toward the Canadian border--”

“Well, good!” Abby said with a laugh. She sat back on the couch and turned to me with a grin. “Let Canada deal with that freak and we can get back to our lives.”

I watched the reporter turn to let the cameraman zoom in on the trees but whatever they were saying went in one ear and right out the other. Nothing was making sense. He just... _ left _ ? He left without saying anything, without trying to terrorize anyone or me? 

It was almost insulting but I knew even feeling like this was absurd. I should be happy. I should be jumping for joy and instead, like the past year and a half, I was left feeling  _ empty _ . It was almost worse than the guilt and panic. At least that was  _ something _ .

But this…

I swallowed back the strange taste on my tongue and was finally able to force a smile. I sat back on the couch and nodded. “Maybe the curfew will be lifted.”

Abby’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re right! But you know, I was thinking about our double date plans.” 

Something told me this was only going to make my stomach feel worse. With a nod, I turned to face her and reached for the remote to mute the television once more--mostly because I didn’t want to even hear it anymore. As soon as she left, I was going to turn the news off and not turn it back on for weeks. 

It was making me miserable.

“What if we all had dinner here?” As soon as I wrinkled my nose, Abby waved her hand. “Or at Brad’s. He’s always looking to show off his cooking skills so I know he’d be down to make us something good.”

I didn’t immediately hate the idea. Going out again, even if the curfew was lifted, made me nervous to think about. Keeping things quiet and only surrounded by people I knew was definitely more comfortable than being out in public. Finally, I nodded and gave her a smile. 

“That sounds fun, actually.”

Her face lit up with excitement and she clapped her hands together. “It will be! How about this Friday? Brad and I already asked off for work before all of this happened.” She gestured to the news still playing on the TV and I nodded. There were no excuses I could give her, despite it being only two more days until Friday. And besides, maybe this could get my mind off of certain escaped prisoners and onto more important things.

“Friday sounds great.”

.

.

I was nervous. God, I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this nervous about an actual date before. Even Matt and my first date hadn’t been this nerve-wracking. But having the guy you’re seeing meet your friends is kind of a big deal, right? It’s not exactly meet-the-parents kind of a big deal, but it was definitely something.

So being in the nervous state I was in, I applied a second swipe of deodorant and cursed at the white lines that were now streaking the armpits of my shirt. I was already running late as it was. I didn’t have time to find something else to wear. 

From the kitchen table, my cell phone was vibrating and for the time being, I ignored it to grab a sweater from my closet. I slipped it on and froze, staring down at the missing button on the front. The last time I had worn it was the day J had thrown me in the back of that van. I thought I had packed up all the clothes that reminded me of him, but apparently, a small part of me had left one behind.

It was like no matter what I did to get him out of my head, some of me didn’t want to. And I wasn’t about to go down that road right now. Not when I was already late.

Hurrying out of the bedroom, I managed to snatch my phone from the table and answer it before Matt could hang up. “Hey,” I breathed, throwing my purse on my shoulder. “I’m ready.”

He laughed softly and I could hear the sounds of the street behind it. A horn honked and I winced, knowing he was probably holding up traffic. “Take your time,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’ll be down in a second.”

Not waiting for his response, I hung up the call and rushed out the door, barely pausing long enough to turn the lights off and lock the door. I wasn’t sure if this was a casual thing or what. Abby hadn’t told me much--just that I should dress nice but nothing fancy. That wasn’t exactly in my wardrobe. 

I was either comfortable in pajamas and a t-shirt or trying to look like I know what I’m doing. Tonight fell into that latter category with a decent top that I sometimes wore to work, jeans, and a sweater with a missing button. A sweater that had once been one of the only layers between me and his body. 

A shiver rolled up my spine and I closed my eyes as the elevator doors slid shut in front of me. “Not tonight,” I muttered to myself. “Please.”

I was so tired of playing this game with myself. Every time a thought about him popped up, I did my best to douse the flickering memory or thought, extinguishing it before it could get out of control. And each time, mostly when I least expected it, a small part of me stoked the flame and brought it back to life.

What was wrong with me?

With a ding of the bell above the doors, the elevator opened to the ground floor and I rushed out. Through the doors, I could see Matt standing at the curb. Behind him was a taxi, waiting for me, with the exhaust fumes swirling around the pavement. I pushed through the doors and flashed an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry,” I breathed, letting him pull me in for a hug. The smell of his expensive cologne settled my nerves for a moment and I inhaled the scent, hoping to drown out the memory of fire and gasoline. “I lost track of time.”

“No worries,” Matt laughed, reaching around me to open the door to the cab. I climbed in, giving the driver the address to Brad’s apartment building while Matt slid in behind me. The heat inside the car felt nice and I settled back into the seat to let it warm me.

Of course, my attention was quickly pulled to the hand resting on my knee. My eyes fell to where Matt laid his hand and I swallowed.  _ Not tonight, Nat...Don’t you dare think of him tonight _ .

I shook the hair from my eyes and peered up at the man beside me. The man that was not psychotic, didn’t torment me, and actually  _ liked _ me. He was definitely handsome, with dark hair cut close to his head on the side while the top was a bit longer. I particularly liked the bright, clear blue of his eyes. No clouding darkness, no impossible to fathom black color. 

The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he smiled back at me and the grip on my knee tightened briefly before he lifted his hand away from me and draped it over my shoulder. “So, since dad and I will be in town for the unforeseeable future, I thought maybe we could go to the theatre next Saturday. Gotham Met is putting on a performance of Hamlet and I’ve been hearing rave reviews.”

I looked down at my hands in my lap. He had mentioned going to the opera before but I had thought he was just saying things to impress me. Someone like me didn’t really go see opera performances. But I couldn’t exactly tell him that. 

“I haven’t thought about Shakespeare since high school.”

Laughing softly, Matt turned to the window and watched the streets pass by. “Well, we can consider this a refresher course.”

“What would I wear?”

“Something nice,” he said, turning back to smile at me. 

“I have a feeling my something nice is a lot different than your something nice.” 

Again, he laughed and used the arm around me to pull me close. The smell of his cologne was in my senses again and I breathed it in deep. “A dress and some heels should be fine. Whatever you wear, I’m sure you’ll look sexy.”

I scowled playfully and looked up at him. “I’m not supposed to look sexy for Shakespeare.”

Matt brought his hand to my chin and curled a finger beneath it to tip my head back. I swallowed tightly and struggled not to recall all the times someone else’s hand was on my chin, forcing me to look up into those impossibly dark eyes. Luckily, this time there was no bruising grip or sharp sting of fingernails.

“You’ll look gorgeous in anything,” he murmured before bringing his lips down to meet mine. I kissed him back, careful not to let it go too far. I still wasn’t ready for that and especially in the back of a cab. I was thankful that he didn’t seem to mind and when he pulled away, the taxi came to a stop outside Brad’s building. 

Matt paid the fare as I stepped out and peered up at the building stretching above us. It was in an older part of the city, where the buildings still had that old Gotham style. It suited Brad who looked like he stepped out of an old black and white movie. He had that kind of Gotham accent that you have to be born into and while I probably wouldn’t be friends with him if Abby weren’t in the picture, I was sure he and Matt would hit it off.

Brad’s apartment was on the third floor and had walls that were exposed brick, ductwork on the ceiling, and windows that looked out over the street. It was small--just a one bedroom--but the kitchen had everything a chef could ask for. 

As we walked in, Abby stood up from her stool at the kitchen counter and grinned at us. As usual, she was gorgeous but I was glad that she kept things about as casual as I did. Still, a pair of jeans and a nice shirt made her look like a model. 

“Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, stepping around me to give Matt a quick hug. He held out a bottle of wine that I had just noticed and I blinked. “Oh, this will be perfect, thank you!”

As she turned away to take the bottle into the kitchen, she paused long enough to give me a wink and a carefully hidden thumbs up. From over her shoulder, I spotted Brad at the stove and he gave us a nod of his chin. “You can just set your coats down wherever,” he called from over the pot he was stirring. “We’re not fancy.”

_ We _ ? 

I’d have to talk to Abby about that later. It seemed she was giving Brad’s apartment the same treatment she gave mine. I could see her influence in the pillows on his couch, the decor hanging on his walls, and even the curtains. 

I shrugged out of my coat and took Matt’s to the couch across the room, draping it over the back of the seat. And before I could turn away, I lifted my eyes to the television and sucked in a quiet breath. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one that kept the news on mute. 

The station was playing the same kind of report and had J’s mugshot on screen. It had been a while since I saw it, but I remembered it just like it was the day it was plastered on the front page of every newspaper. His hair disheveled, makeup half-wiped from his face, and a smirk curling one side of the scars on either side of his mouth. In an instant, that part inside me that fanned the flames he left behind was back and I could feel the weight of my past weighing heavily on my chest.

“What are you doing over there, Nat?” Abby called, breaking through my thoughts. I turned on my heel and hoped they couldn’t see how flushed my face was. I could almost feel the heat coming off of my cheeks. I stepped up to the counter where Matt had made himself at home and was now serving glasses of wine.

“Can you believe this shit?” Brad asked with a shake of his head. He had a towel slung over one shoulder and he was tossing some herbs into the sauce on the stove. “I think they let those guys out. And I’m not the only one that thinks it.”

Fuck, I had hoped to avoid any talk of it, but when it was literally on everyone’s mind, it was a little hard to avoid. Beside me, Abby scoffed and took one of the glasses of wine. I did as well, but I had already decided I wouldn’t be drinking much tonight. 

“What do you mean  _ let _ them out? They blew a hole in the side of the asylum.”

“Who do you think gave ‘em the C4?” Brad looked at her pointedly. “A cousin of mine did a few months at Arkham. Plead insanity for an armed robbery case and got locked up with the crazies. He said there’s no fuckin’ way these fools got out on their own. They had inside help.”

His words made an unease settle over me and I tried to shrug it away. Though I knew if I looked back at the TV, his face would still be there, I refused. I didn’t want to see it anymore--didn’t exactly have to though. His face was always there in the back of my mind. 

On second thought, maybe wine was exactly what I needed tonight. I brought the glass to my lips and took a long sip. From beside me, Matt put a hand at my back and rubbed it across my shoulders. “Well, I’m just glad they’re moving away from Gotham. The last thing I want is to have to leave the city early because of some wacko.” I swallowed hard at Matt calling him a wacko, though I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to defend him. “Especially when I bought tickets to the opera for next week.”

Wait.

Frowning, I looked up at him. “You already bought the tickets?”

He smiled, the gesture wrinkling the corner of his eyes. “I was going to surprise you. Consider it an early Christmas present.” And with that, he planted a chaste kiss on my forehead and circled around me to help Brad prepare our dinner. In his absence, I looked over at Abby and found her grinning from ear to ear. 

“That’s so exciting!”

Behind her, Brad laughed. “The opera, huh? It true that they cut the guy’s balls off to make ‘em sing that high?”

Abby reached back and smacked him on the arm for being so crude and I couldn’t help but laugh into my wine glass. After a brief spat between them, dinner was served and we carried the conversation over to the table. I thanked Brad for remembering my vegetarianism and he gave me a friendly wink. 

“Though I don’t know why anyone would wanna go without meat, I respect it.” He handed me a basket of garlic bread that smelled absolutely delicious and I grabbed one to set on the edge of my plate. Through most of the dinner, things were quiet and I was thankful. I just needed a few minutes to keep my thoughts clear.

Though, as soon as the conversation picked back up, I wasn’t so lucky. I sat back in my chair, nursing my half glass of wine while Brad and Abby were discussing the city lifting the curfew in the next few days. That kind of conversation was easy enough to ignore. Nod when appropriate, laugh after a joke. Easy.

What wasn’t easy, was when Brad turned to look at the television behind my back and I braced myself. He clucked his tongue and sat back in his chair, a look of amusement on his face. Whatever he was about to say, I’d need more wine to hear it. When he looked back at us, he scoffed. “Can you believe there are chicks out there that think he’s hot?”

Then again, the wine was a bad choice. I coughed into my glass just as a sip went down my throat and sputtered. Heat lit my face and I shook my head, trying to force a smile as Matt reached over to pat me on the back. “I’m alright,” I croaked. 

“He’s got some fan club,” Brad continued once I was breathing again. I set my glass down on the table and brushed the hair from my face. Suddenly, it was sweltering in the apartment. “They were all crowded around the asylum the day he was moved there. Had signs and was trying to give him gifts. Wouldn’t surprise me if he ran off with one of them.”

And just like that, the heat of my face was extinguished and I blinked down at my plate. Oh, God...what if he  _ had _ run off with one of them? 

_ That would be a good thing, Natalie,  _ I told myself.  _ You want him to leave you alone. Let some other girl deal with the headache and heartbreak. _

To my right, Matt sat forward and chuckled. “Just goes to show you, there’s someone out there for everyone.” He scooped up his glass and took a sip as both Brad and Abby agreed. “But you’d think it would get old washing that clown paint off your face after he’s finished.”

Everyone laughed except me. I could barely think at that moment. In some way, I felt as if they were making fun of me. It hurt, but only because I knew that if things hadn’t happened the way they did with Joker, I would be laughing at the same jokes. I would laugh at myself just the way they were laughing at the thought of someone actually liking him.

Feeling a tingling sensation at the back of my neck, I lifted my eyes, unable to shake the feeling of someone staring at me. Matt was in conversation with Brad still which only left one person.

Across from me, Abby had her elbows on the table and her chin resting on her hands but her eyes were focused right on me. The look on her face was something I couldn’t quite read and it sent a roll of panic through my chest. It was a strange mix of curiosity and...something else--something that made me nervous.

“You okay?” She asked, tilting her head to the side just a bit. 

“Yeah.” My voice was barely a whisper. “I got a headache from coughing so hard.”

“I’ve got some Tylenol if you want it.” 

I nodded and was finally able to breathe when she stood from the table to retrieve the pain meds. It was the second time in the past few days that she had been able to notice the way I react to any mention of him. I hoped that I could pull off making it seem like it was just the old anxiety coming back now that he was free again. 

She had never suspected anything before. There was no reason for her to suspect anything now. 

Matt reached over and took my hand, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze as he and Brad began discussing crazy ex-girlfriends. I knew I should be listening, but my mind was shot. I had reached my limit and only wanted to pretend long enough to get back home. After popping two tylenol and passing on the second glass of wine, the night carried on smoothly.

No more strange looks from Abby.

No more discussing a certain clown. 

And by morning, I was feeling better about things. The look she had given me was much easier to brush aside in the light of day when I was clear-headed and sober. So she had been staring at me. That hadn’t meant she was suspicious I had slept with the infamous Joker. If anything, she suspected I was one of the girls that found him attractive.

That would be easy enough to deny. 

After all, I had been denying it to myself all this time. 

Saturday mornings were always enjoyable. No work, no rushing around, and plenty of time to eat my oatmeal and scroll through social media. Earlier, I had woken from a text from Matt telling me he had a great time and liked my friends. Which matched the text I got from Abby after we had left the night before.

**Abby** :  _ I can tell he likes you a lot! _

_ Hush. Don’t put things in my head. _

**_Abby_ ** _ : I’m not! I mean that. You can tell with the way he looks at you. _

I flipped my phone face down and set it on the table before dipping my spoon back into the apple and cinnamon oatmeal. Unlike Brad, I was no chef and had made it from a pack, but it was warm and filled my stomach. 

Maybe a banana to go with it would really make me full.

I stood up to grab a banana from the basket on the kitchen counter just as my phone buzzed across the table. Without looking, I snatched it up, hit the answer button, and put it to my ear, expecting either Matt or Abby--the only two people that really ever want to talk to me. 

“Hello?”

“Good morning, sweetheart.” 

My blood ran cold at the sound of that strange, familiar voice. Apparently, I had forgotten the only other person that would try to contact me. Shaking, I pulled the phone away from my ear to see the local Gotham number that wasn’t saved into my contacts. How had he found me? I had changed my number. 

Pressing a hand to my stomach, I turned and stared at the windows across from me. Thank God Abby had made me put up curtains. I didn’t want to think about him watching me.   
  


  
Without waiting for me to respond, he spoke up again, this time with humor touching the words he spoke. “Did you  _ miss _ me, Natalie?”

* * *


	3. Favors

* * *

_Chills dripping like acid rain  
_ _Keep coming back because it’s you I crave_

* * *

I didn’t know how it was possible to feel as if my heart was both beating out of my chest and not beating at all. Dizziness swam through my head and I reached out to steady myself against the counter. This couldn’t be happening. So many times I had experienced this in my nightmares and I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to wake myself up.

But when I opened them again, I was still in my kitchen, still holding the phone to my ear and listening to the slow, even breathing from the other end. I swallowed tightly. 

“Why are you contacting me?” The shakiness of my voice made me frown. I knew he’d hear the fear and I knew it would delight him. 

With a quick smack of his lips that made me flinch, he laughed quietly. “Because _Natalie_. It’s been far too long. Oh, and I thought you would like to know that there are two detectives heading to your apartment to speak to you.”

My heart dropped to the floor and I put a hand over my mouth. Two of my worst nightmares were coming true at the same time and all I could do was stand in the kitchen wearing nothing but my baggy, oversized nightshirt, staring like a deer caught in headlights. With tears burning at my eyes, I glanced to my front door and made sure the deadbolt and lock were in place. 

“And they’re pulling up outside right _now_.” The sound of his voice startled me but what he said made that bubble of panic building up burst inside my chest. I ran across the apartment to my bedroom, my socked feet sliding on the floorboards. 

How did he know? How close was he right now? 

I moved to my window but didn’t peek out just yet. “Where are you?” My words were nothing but a whisper.

“Close enough.”

I wanted to roll my eyes at his answer but could do nothing but blink the tears away. Carefully, I stepped closer to the window and pulled the curtains aside just enough that I could see down to the street. The bastard was right. A police car, unmarked but clearly not just a random car, was parked halfway down the block, and inside, I could see two men sitting there. 

Shit.

Was he telling me the truth or trying to lure me into a trap? 

“What the hell are they doing here?” I wasn’t even sure why I was asking him. It’s not like he would give me a straight answer or tell the truth. I couldn’t trust him, but I had no other option right now. 

“It seems that our secret _affair_ couldn’t stay _secret_ for long.”

I frowned and spun away from the window. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Someone talked, sweetheart. But I wouldn’t worry just yet.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mumbled. My mind was in a frenzy trying to figure out what he meant and what the hell I was going to do about all of this. I reached up to rake my fingers through my hair and paced the length of the floor in front of my window. What the fuck was I going to do? “Can’t I just not answer the door? Pretend I’m not home or something?”

“You can do whatever you want,” he said and somehow, I knew he followed the words with a flick of his tongue against the corners of his mouth. “But we both know you don’t have a good track record with _hiding_. And those two won’t give up easily.”

Ugh, I hated him so much. Dropping my hand to my side, I turned back to the window to check once more. The cops were still in their car and I scowled. Why were they just sitting there? “Well, what am I supposed to do?” I had no idea why I was asking _him_ of all people for advice. “How do you even know they’re here for me?”

On the other end of the call, Joker scoffed as if he were offended by me even asking that question. Of course, he knew they were here for me and I should be ashamed for even doubting him. “I _suggest_ you tell them the truth.”

It was my turn to laugh at him. Cradling the phone between my ear and my shoulder, I snatched a pair of sweatpants from the floor and stepped into them. “The truth,” I repeated with a roll of my eyes. “Right. I’ll just tell them how you stalked and tormented me for weeks and we slept together--”

“ _Twice_.” He chimed in with humor dripping from his tone.

“--and that you’re on the phone right now with me! Want me to just hand them the phone to speak with you? Are you insane?”

“No.” This time, there was no humor in his response and I rolled my eyes. He could deny it all he wanted, but there was nothing _normal_ about what he was. Crossing my bedroom, I pulled the curtain back enough to look out and gasped. 

The detectives, one tall and the other squat and round, were climbing out of the car. Even from up here, they looked like cops. The oatmeal I had eaten earlier turned my stomach and I whined. “Oh, god, they’re getting out. _Help_ me. What do I do?”

“That’s up to you, sweetheart. But I want you to do something for me, okay?”

I stood up straight and glared at the wall across from me as if he were standing there. A part of me _almost_ believed he was giving me a heads up about this because he felt bad for everything he’d done to me. What a fool I was to believe that!

“You want a favor from me _now_?”

“It’s nothing you can’t handle and besides, you _owe_ me, Natalie.”

At this, my jaw dropped. The nerve of him! I was running out of time to figure this out and he was asking a favor of me? And not just that, he thinks I owed him one! Oh, he was such a fucking prick. 

“I _owe_ you? For what?”

The noise he made instantly curbed my anger and suddenly, I was filled with something else. Dread, anxiety, and panic were of course there but just beneath them, was a flutter of something I’d spent the past year trying to get rid of. And with just a quiet growl in the back of his throat, he pulled it out of the depths I’d hidden it under. 

It wasn’t fair. 

How was I still so powerless against this?

“How about you owe me for telling you about this _little_ visit? I could have let them spring it on you.” I could hear the irritation in his voice and it made me swallow back the smartass remark waiting on my tongue. Instead, I crossed the room to make my way back into the kitchen and I stood, staring at the front door, waiting for the inevitable. 

With a deep breath that trembled through my chest, I closed my eyes. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”

“Just keep me on the phone while you speak to them.” It was such a simple request but it made me frown. 

“Oh,” I whispered. The need to ask him to explain _why_ was strong but I didn’t have time to ask before he spoke up once more.

“Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?” 

  
“I--yeah. I can.” There was no point in arguing with him. Not when any minute, the police would be at my door.

“Good girl.”

That flutter from before erupted within me, sucking all the air from my lungs and I blinked a few times to come to my senses. Why did he do this to me? It was always such a roller coaster when dealing with him. One second, he was terrifying me, the next I was furious at him but then he would throw me for a loop and do something like _this_. 

And I made it so easy for him. He knew what my reactions would be and each time, I played right into his game.

In the quiet, I could hear shuffling of feet just outside the door and my entire body tensed up. My fingers curled tightly around the phone and again, I found myself whimpering like a helpless, wounded animal. “Shit, I think they’re here.”

If I thought he would offer a word of encouragement, I was wrong. He stayed quiet and I slowly lowered the phone to my chest, making sure that the screen was facing me. The seconds ticked by like hours and each one felt like I was closer to fainting out of terror. I held my breath and wished--just this once--that he could give me just a smidge of comfort. 

All I had were his vague threats and the praises that lit me from inside with the warmth I had almost _missed_. 

My thoughts were silenced by three sharp knocks on my door and the terror within me made my head swim. God, I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t keep my cool in the face of something like this. I was just a scared little rabbit, caught up in a wolf’s games. Despite my legs wobbling beneath me, I managed to make my way to the door.

I ducked to the peep hole and wanted to throw up at the sight of the same two men I had seen step out of the car on the street. The one closest to the door was the taller of the two and he had his hands on his hips as he waited. Whatever they were saying to one another was too low for me to hear and with a deep breath to steady myself--which didn’t work--I twisted the deadbolt.

The noise was almost deafening in the silence of my apartment, but I moved to the lock on the knob and pulled the door open. Through the crack, I peered up at them.

“Can I help you?”

“Ms. Jacobs?”

My voice was barely a squeak when I responded. “Yes?”

“I’m Detective Perez and this is Detective Kellerman.” They both held up their badges for me to see and I glanced from the taller one to his partner. Neither looked too happy to see me and I swallowed down the urge to puke right there on their shoes. “Mind if we ask you some questions?”

Could I just tell them no and shut the door in their face? I’m sure _someone_ would get a kick out of that but he had been right before. I wasn’t very good at hiding and if I didn’t face this right now, they would just show up at my work where I couldn’t easily run and hide from them. 

“I--I’m not sure. What is this about?”

The two men shared a look and the shorter one of the two seemed almost amused to be here. His short scoff shook the jowls of his face and he crossed his arms over his chest. Detective Perez at least _tried_ to look friendly, though his polite smile was clearly forced.

“We just need a few moments of your time to ask you a few questions about an ongoing investigation.” 

From down the hall, one of my neighbors--that I still hadn’t really cared to meet properly--opened their door and I knew how strange it would look to see two detectives standing outside my door. Clearing my throat, I took a step back and let them come into my apartment. Before they had even crossed the threshold, I could tell it was a mistake. 

With the phone still pressed to my chest, I shut the door behind them and offered them a seat in the living room. Detective Kellerman was quick to sit down on the couch and he draped his elbow over the arm. His partner, however, took his time, glancing around the room as if he were looking for something in particular. 

Did he think I had pictures of Joker and me together? How stupid did they think I was?

As he made his way to take a seat beside his partner on the couch, I came around and sat in the chair facing them. I stayed on the edge of the cushion and lowered the phone to my lap, careful not to let them see that there was an active call. My heart was pounding hard in my chest and I forced myself not to look down at my hands.

Could he hear them properly from where I had laid the phone? God, why did I care? I shouldn’t be doing him any favors!

Shaking my head, I managed to think of a coherent enough thought to ask them a question. Unfortunately, it was the one question I really didn’t want them to answer. “Am I in trouble or something?”

“Well,” Detective Perez said, glancing back at the man sitting to his left. “That’s what we’d like to find out.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. Far too relaxed. It was a front to make me feel like I should relax too. I didn’t. “Ever heard the name Frank Murphy?”

Frank Murphy? 

I frowned. Was that...J’s real name? The thought almost made me laugh but I swallowed the urge and shook my head. Detective Perez cleared his throat and reached into the front pocket of his jacket. When he pulled out a piece of paper with a mugshot picture printed on it, I held my breath. He handed it to me and I lifted a shaking hand to take it from him.

The picture was definitely _not_ Joker...but it was someone I instantly recognized. It was the guy who had been driving the day I was taken to the bank then to that warehouse where Joker and I had--

Sniffing, I handed the picture back to the detective and shook my head, hoping I was being at least a little bit convincing. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of him.”

As Detective Perez slipped the paper back into his jacket pocket, the other one sat up. He turned his eyes to me and lifted his eyebrows. “Well, he’s heard of you. In fact, he mentioned you by name and said you were something of a girlfriend to the Joker.”

My jaw fell open before I could stop it and I knew the look of bewilderment on my face just made me look guiltier. I almost couldn’t believe he had ratted me out like that. Didn’t he know I had been an innocent bystander in all of this? It wasn’t like _I_ had helped any of their plans. Then again, the guy had probably heard what we had done in that office and was trying to use whatever leverage he had to reduce his sentence. 

With a laugh that didn’t sound convincing to even me, I shook my head. “Definitely not.”

“Murphy was pretty sure of it,” Kellerman said, giving me a look that told me he definitely didn’t believe anything I was saying. “Said he even drove you a few times to see the guy.”

“That’s ridiculous! He’s lying. Why would I ever want to see that--that maniac?” Knowing Joker was listening didn’t exactly calm my nerves and I wondered if he would take offense to me calling him a maniac. 

“Well,” Perez said with a simple shrug. “You wouldn’t be the first girl to get mixed up in something like that. Every mob boss’ got at least three girlfriends.”

I stared at him and wracked my brain. _C’mon, Natalie_ . _You should be a professional at lying by now. Just do what you do best and deflect_.

“Do you really think that if I were the girlfriend of a mob boss, I’d be living in a tiny one-bedroom, working as a receptionist just to scrape by and pay my bills?” That’s it...Answer their questions with a question. It certainly worked in the past when I was being confronted about something. 

Before either of them could answer, a terrifying thought popped into my head. Did they know about the bank account? Oh, god...I could go to prison just for being involved with that! My mouth was dry and hot all of a sudden and I frantically tried to calm myself down. They didn’t know about it. As far as I knew, only two people knew about it and the other person was currently listening into this conversation.

Besides, Frank Murphy hadn’t dropped Jaclyn’s name. Just mine.

“Ms. Jacobs,” Perez started, making me look over at him. “We’re just trying to find any information we can about this guy. We’re following any lead we got. But, just to be clear, you’re telling us that you never met the Joker and you never had any involvement with him?”

“No--” I shook my head. “--Of course, not.”

For the third time, the two detectives shared a look, and again, the unease within me spiked. It was like they were both thinking the same thing like they knew something I didn’t. It was Kellerman who finally spoke, facing me once again. He had a small notepad in his hands, flipped to the middle pages. 

“Do you remember working at Gold Standard Catering company last year?”

Fuck.

My stomach clenched tight and I had to keep myself from doubling over. The words felt heavy in my mouth but I managed to reply coherently. “I-I took a few jobs with my friend and eventually worked there part-time.”

“Were you working the Harvey Dent fundraiser at Bruce Wayne’s penthouse the night it was attacked by the Joker?”

_Fuck_.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“So, you were there during the time the Joker crashed the party?”

Again, I could only answer with a whisper. “Yes.”

“Now, do you want to tell us again if you have any involvement with this guy?” Kellerman looked smug. I detested the look on his pudgy face. 

Swallowing tightly, I shrugged and glanced between both of them. “Look, just because I was there doesn’t mean I was his girlfriend. He took a--a champagne glass from my tray and spilled some on me and that’s as close as he got, okay? It’s not like he shook my hand and introduced himself to me. I was just a server that night.” 

They didn’t believe me. I could see it in the way they stared at me, waiting for me to collapse under pressure and give in. Little did they know, I had _some_ experience with this. Avoiding the truth, lying, keeping secrets was something I’d become an expert at thanks to a certain someone and I sat there, mouth shut, staring right back at the two men on my couch. But still, the thought of them knowing this much of the truth made me feel sick.

After a few more moments, they seemed to realize I wasn’t going to volunteer them the information they were after and Perez nodded with a sigh. He reached into another pocket of his jacket and I watched as he pulled out a small card. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Jacobs. If you remember anything that can help us, please don’t hesitate to call.”

I took his card and glanced quickly down to his name and phone number printed on the front. I nodded, a bit surprised that they gave up so easily. Maybe they had expected me to crack easily under pressure. 

Detective Kellerman stood from the couch and buttoned his jacket over the front of his protruding stomach. He turned away from me and paused, glancing back with a quiet laugh. “You know what’s strange to me?” He wagged his finger and I blinked up at him. “The night we took the Joker in he had all sorts of weapons on him. Knives, shivs, razorblades.”

“Even found a switchblade in his shoe,” Perez added with a shake of his head. His partner turned to chuckle at him before looking back down at me. 

“But you know what else we found?”

He waited for me to respond and when I did, my voice cracked halfway through. “What?”

“A pair of pink panties with a little bow on the front. Right in the front pocket of his pants.” Warmth flooded my face as my stomach dropped to the seat beneath me. “They looked like they’d been to hell and back.”

“We just figured the Joker was a pervert.”

Despite them laughing as if this was all some sort of inside joke that I wasn’t a part of, I didn’t even try to fake the sentiment. I just wanted them out of my house. I stood to my feet, dropping the phone back on the chair behind me and reached around them to open my front door. With another reminder to call them if I remembered anything--yeah, right--they stepped back into the hallway and I had to resist slamming the door behind them.

The seconds passed in their silence and I didn’t know whether I wanted to cry, throw up, or laugh about it all. I wasn’t convinced that I’d gotten away with it just yet. They were definitely suspicious of me and I needed to be much more careful if I didn’t want them busting down my door to arrest me. 

Which meant, I had to cut ties with someone in particular.

Glancing back at the phone sitting on my chair, my face flushed warm once more and I crossed back into the living room to retrieve the device. I put it to my ear and listened. There was soft breathing and I knew he was still there.

“You kept my panties?”

His chuckle should have infuriated me. I didn’t know why it didn’t. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not it _turns_ you on.”

I put a hand to my forehead and swallowed, wishing to rid my mouth of the bad taste that was clinging to my tongue. The bowl of oatmeal still sitting on my table made me nauseous just to see it and I groaned, leaning over to put my head in my hands. “I feel sick.”

He sighed at my ear. “Now, now. There’s no reason to be _so_ dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” I sat up, glaring into the room and wishing he was here to see it. “I think I’m being exactly what I should be after dealing with that.”

With a smack of his lips, he let out a breath and I bit down on my lower lip as I envisioned him sitting in some derelict warehouse with only a bare bulb shining down on him. I hated that the image instantly brought up memories of when we had been in that office together. “Would it make you feel better to know they won’t be bothering you anymore?”

“Oh, god,” I groaned, falling back into the chair. They had been assholes, but they didn’t deserve to die. “You’re not going to kill them are you?” 

“Not everything is life and death, Natalie. Some people have their uses and they’re worth _keeping_ around for a while longer.” 

I rolled my eyes at his cryptic answer. “Is that how you feel about me?”

“Oh, _sweetheart_ ,” he purred, making me bite down on my bottom lip. I should _not_ like the sound of him speaking to me like this. “You should know how I feel about you.”

Oh, god, and when he said things like that, there was no hope. He left me feeling scorched and struggling just to breathe. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or hated it. I pressed a hand to my belly to stop the fluttering sensation inside me. “And what if I don’t?”

“Then, I suppose, I’ll just have to _show_ you all over again.”

It wasn’t fair how my body responded to him against my wishes. It was like he and I were both struggling for control of my own body and he knew all of the ways to make me powerless. The fact that a part of me was delighted disgusted me. I sat up and shook the thoughts from my head, focusing on the guy I was dating instead.

Matthew was real. He was here. He didn’t play these games and torture me for weeks. And I would be an absolute fool to throw that away just because Joker made me feel like I was endlessly running through a fire. 

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I spat, hoping he couldn’t hear the truth behind my words.

The deep, scratchy laugh at my ear told me he definitely did. “I almost forgot how much fun it is to play this game with you, Natalie. You’re still denying everything, still _fighting_ your desires. But that’s okay. I _like_ when you try to fight back.”

Okay, I had to put a stop to this. If I let him keep going down this path, I was going to do something I would seriously regret. No matter how much that incessant little voice in the back of my head was begging me to keep going, I shook my head. “Yeah? Well, I’m not the pacifist I once was. Don’t contact me again.”

I didn’t wait for a response. I pressed my thumb into the button on the screen to end the call and tossed my phone onto the couch. But even as it laid there face up, I stared at it, waiting for it to light up with a call. When it didn’t, I let my head fall back against the chair and closed my eyes. I reached up and pressed the heel of my palms into my eyes until I saw spots.

They were better than seeing the memories of his face, of him standing over me, of that infuriating smirk on his lips. Every muscle in my body trembled as if I had run a marathon and was on the verge of collapsing. Why was this happening to me again? 

It had almost killed me the first time. Something told me I wouldn’t make it out quite so lucky this time. He was going to finish what he started with me. And if he said those things to me, the delicious promises that made me weak and breathless, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to even fight him this time. 

* * *


	4. Play Pretend

* * *

_ Oh come on, baby  
Oh come on, darling  
Let me steal this moment from you now _

* * *

“Hello? Earth to Natalie.” A hand waved in front of my face and I blinked quickly to snap myself out of the never-ending cycle of thoughts. Across the rack of clothes we had been sorting through, Abby shook her head with a laugh. “Thought I’d lost you for a second there.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, taking a step back to look at the dresses hanging neatly on the circular rack. For the past half hour, we had been searching for the right dress I could wear to the theatre this weekend and so far, I didn’t find a single one that I even considered decent. Whether that was because I was far too critical or because of the foul mood I’d been in for the past four days, I wasn’t sure. 

All I knew was that this would be going a lot smoother if I could get a certain person and his words  _ out  _ of my head. But it seems that I was a horrible person in a past life and was doomed to be tortured in this one. 

“Ah, you’re in your head again.” Abby’s words made me look up at her with a frown.

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged her shoulder, making a strand of blonde curls fall away and I pushed a dress to the side without even looking at it. “Just the way you were at dinner the other night. Every time Matt brought up taking you out to the theatre, you kind of shut down.”

Oh, thank the gods. I was terrified she was referring to the  _ other _ reason I had been acting weird. It took a few moments for my head to get back on the Matt track after the last conversation with Joker had derailed all my thoughts. For the past few days, there’d been nothing in my head but him and the jumbled wreck he’d left me in.

Not to mention, I was feeling guilty for some other things I had done the past few days. The memory of touching myself to thoughts of him and the fantasies I conjured up made my face flush and I quickly shook them away. 

_ Don’t think about him. Think about Matt. _

“I just feel...beneath him, I guess.”

And that was the truth. I did feel like Matt belonged to a different class than I did. He was building condos, living out of a hotel suite for the next few weeks, and I barely scraped by to pay bills. I know it was the 21st century and I wasn’t supposed to think of things like that anymore, but I couldn’t help it.

There was always going to be a divide between us and I would always feel like I didn’t quite belong.

With a sigh, Abby circled around the rack and gave me a stern look that I did all I could to avoid. I knew she was just being a friend, but couldn’t she just let me mope? “Nat, you’re not beneath him. He’s got money, so what?”

“Yeah, and he wears tailored suits and is buying up property by the millions. I’m not even in the same realm.”

Looping her arm around mine, she steered me away from the rack of dresses we were cycling through and to one that seemed a bit fancier. These came with a more expensive price tag but I didn’t let myself think about that right now. 

“You have to stop thinking about it like that. Matt likes you a lot. I could tell.”

Her words were like a punch in the gut and I was thankful that for the moment, she was too busy pulling out a black garment that had far too many sequins for my taste to see the guilt on my face. Matt did like me. Even I could see that. Which made me feel worse about the things I did in the privacy of my bedroom...and shower.

Frowning and feeling grumpier than ever, I turned and leaned a shoulder against the wall beside us. “He likes me  _ now _ . But he might not when he gets to know the real me.”

“Well,  _ I _ know the real you and I think you’d be gorgeous in this.” She pulled out the dress she was admiring and I stared at it. It was midnight blue, form-fitting all the way down to where the skirt would end at my knees and I frowned. On someone like Abby who was naturally a size six with the to-die-for hourglass figure, it would look gorgeous. 

On me? Yeah, I didn’t think so. 

I shook my head and took the hanger from her, hooking it back on the rack. “That’s way too fancy.”

“You have to be fancy to go to the opera, Nat.” 

“Which is exactly the problem I’m having. Abby, I’m wearing a sweater to cover a mac and cheese stain on my shirt that I can’t figure out how to get out.” To emphasize my words, I pulled my sweater open to show a strange, oblong-shaped stain on the left side of my shirt, right over my tit. With a scoff, I threw my hands up in defeat. “Not to mention, I’m an adult that still eats mac and cheese for dinner most nights.”

I could see her mouth stretching into a smile but before she could respond, one of the saleswomen of the shop made her way toward us. She flashed her customer service smile and I took a step back, ducking my head. “Anything I can help you ladies find today?”

Abby beamed. “We’re looking for something to wear to the opera. Well, she is--” she jutted her thumb to me. “--But I’m always in the market to buy something pretty.”

The saleswoman turned her attention to me and I blinked. “We have quite a few choices right here,” she said, leading us back toward the front of the shop where the windows were facing the street. It was prime real estate in the store, which meant the price would most certainly go up. “What are you going to see?”

“Oh, um, Hamlet. But, not the play. It’s an opera, apparently.”

She nodded and spun on her heel between two circular dress racks. “Day or night show? Weekday or weekend?”

Her rapid-fire questions caught me off guard and I blinked. Did any of that matter? I frowned and glanced at the assortment of dresses and a few pantsuits hanging there. “Night and this Saturday.”

Giving a sharp nod of her head, the woman pointed to the rack on my right. “Then these would be a better match.” Instantly, she started pulling options off the rack and holding them out for me to see. I had no time to turn any of them down. “With your legs, something with a slit would look great.”

“Oh, yes!” Abby said excitedly beside me. “A slit would be so sexy!”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I should look sexy--”

“How do you feel about velvet?”

Fifteen minutes later, I had been shoved into one of the fitting rooms with a bundle of dresses in my arms. The curtain had been pulled shut behind me and I stood in the small space just big enough for me to move around in a circle. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for several minutes, trying to figure out what I was even doing.

This all felt so...trivial. 

What was the point in doing any of this when there were detectives suspicious of me, and an escaped psychotic clown hell-bent on either killing me or making me his weird sex slave? I sat on the small, cushioned bench pushed into the corner of the fitting room and looked through the multitude of fabric hanging on the wall. 

Most weren’t my style and I definitely wouldn’t be even trying them on if they didn’t appeal to me. But there was one that caught my eye and I reached up to pull it out from the middle of the bunch. The emerald, velvet fabric made me wrinkle my nose when the saleswoman pulled it from the rack, but the longer I stared at it, the more I liked it. 

As I hung it on the front of the other dresses, I let my fingers slip down the length of the skirt. The dress wrapped around and tied at the waist with a thin strip of matching velvet and the deep V of the neck matched the slit it made up the thigh. It was definitely sexy, but not in the way I was trying to avoid. There was a subdued, elegant feel to the sexiness. 

I stood to my feet and quickly undressed out of my work clothes, tossing them aside to the bench. Standing in just my cheap bra and panties, I pulled the dress around my shoulders and tied it around the waist. The sleeves fell to my elbows and were loose and flowy. I was surprised by how warm it was and when I turned to face my reflection in the full-length mirror behind me, my eyes widened.

Was it possible to find exactly what I was looking for on my first try? I turned to assess what the backside looked like and was pleased that nothing immediately triggered my insecurities. Pleasantly, that self-conscious, nit-picky voice was quiet. 

As I turned back to the front and stared at the dip of the neckline that ended right between my breasts, I wondered what  _ he _ would think of me in this. He had only seen me wearing the old clothes I wore around the house or the one dress I reserved for nice occasions--even though he had told me it wasn’t that nice. But this was something else entirely. 

I knew he’d appreciate the color and definitely the amount of skin that showed at the vulnerable places on my body. In the mirror, I caught the reflection of a smile curling the corner of my lips and quickly frowned. There was no point in dwelling on whether or not he would appreciate the dress on me.

He would never see it on me. 

At the curtain, Abby knocked against the wall, startling me into spinning around. “Come on, I’m getting antsy.”

“Okay, but...I think I found the one I want.”

“You’ve only been in there five minutes! I’m coming in,” she announced, giving me no time before her head poked around the curtain. Her eyes looked me up and down and the way her jaw fell open told me exactly what I wanted to see. “Holy shit. Matt’s going to want to skip the opera and ravish you when he sees you in that.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled with a playful roll of my eyes. I followed her out of the curtain to where the saleswoman was waiting near a three-fold mirror. She took one look and nodded. 

“Oh, that’s perfect. Totally vintage Gotham and the velvet is perfect for winter.” She pulled my hair to one side, twisting the length so it laid across one shoulder, and held a pair of earrings to my ear. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the only purchase I would be making would be this dress.

And speaking of the price…

I looked down at the white tag hanging from the sleeve and felt as if my eyes were going to pop out of my head. “Two hundred and twenty dollars?”

“Down from seven hundred,” the woman at my side said, smiling at me from the mirror. She said it so simply as if this was a steal. And I suppose it was more than half off, but that was groceries, cable, and my water bill for the month. 

“It’s used,” I reminded her.

The girl waved me off as she straightened the length of the skirt around my legs so it hung just a bit better than I had it. “Never worn. Had the price tag still on it when it came in.”

Still, it wasn’t expensive and I didn’t exactly have the funds to cover frivolous spending on a dress.

_ Or you could just use your other bank account,  _ that annoying voice in the back of my head reminded me, making me scowl at my reflection. I couldn’t use that money for something like this. The police were already after me. If they found out I was using a fake bank account with a fake name, they’d lock me away for conspiring with a terrorist  _ and _ fraud. 

From my left, Abby stepped up and looped her arm around mine. “I can help you pay for it.”

I loved her for it, but I couldn’t let her do that. The guilt of lying and keeping so much from her was enough. I didn’t want to owe her any money. Shaking my head, I turned to the saleswoman and forced a smile. “Do you take checks?”

.

.

I paced nervously back and forth in the small lobby of my apartment building. With each step I took, the rich, velvet material swirled around my ankles and I had to fight myself to keep from running up to my bedroom to change. I had nothing else that would fit the night, but this was...strange.

I felt like I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t. This wasn’t me. And it showed because I had no idea what I was doing with my hair or makeup. I went for simplicity and kept my hair down with the ends curled so that they sat just beneath my shoulders. As for my face...I just hoped that subtle was currently in style.

Shaking the nervousness from my fingers, I paced and avoided my reflection in the glass of the doors. The tiny, clutch purse I had wedged between my elbow and side looked ridiculous. I’d rather not carry anything at all, but Abby had insisted. 

Everyone carries one, she had assured me. All I had inside was my cell phone, a tube of chapstick, and a small sandwich bag of gummy bears that Abby had left at my place. And I only put those in there to keep me from biting my fingernails--which were freshly painted with a color Abby had called Crimson Night. I popped a handful of the candy into my mouth and chewed to get rid of some of this nervous energy.

Everything about me felt so off and  _ fake _ . And if I had time, I would have called Matt, told him tonight was off and changed back into my pajama pants. But before I could turn tail and run back home, a sleek, black town car pulled up to the curb. I stopped pacing and felt my jaw fall open.

The back door opened and I watched Matt step out, standing up straight to button his jacket at his waist and I was suddenly so nervous I felt sick to my stomach. God damn gummy bears were a mistake. 

He looked good though like he stepped off the page of a magazine. He wore a black suit, no tie, with a sleek sport coat that looked like it was tailored for his body. And it more than likely was. When he saw me through the doors, his lips spread into a smile and I felt a small flutter of nervous butterflies against the inside of my stomach.

I met him on the sidewalk, wincing from the blast of cold, December air. Despite the warm fabric of the dress, my arms and chest were left to the elements and I shivered. Matt met me halfway and took me by the arm, pulling me toward the car. “I’d kiss you right here, but I can tell you’re cold.”

“I don’t really have a coat that would look good with this dress.” And I wasn’t about to shell out more money that wasn’t mine to pay for one. 

The inside of the car was warm and I let out a sigh of relief as I sank into the leather seats. The car was nicer than my apartment, with white leather seats and wood grain detail on the doors and I looked up at the driver in the front with surprise. Of course he had a driver. The ball of nerves in my stomach tightened uncomfortably and I let my head fall back against the seat as Matt dropped into the car.

He shut the door and let out a soft laugh as he told the driver where to go. As the car pulled away from the curb, he turned his smile to me and I returned it. “You look beautiful,” he said. “Just like I said you would.”

“You have a driver.” It was the only thing I could think to say at that moment. 

Matt laughed and ducked his head sheepishly. As if he were almost  _ embarrassed _ to be so loaded that he had a chauffeur. “Just for tonight, I promise.”

He reached over to take my hand and I let him squeeze my fingers reassuringly. It didn’t help to reassure me, but it was nice just to have some warm contact. Though, it was nowhere near the heat I had been craving lately. 

Biting my lip, I turned to look out the window as we made our way toward the heart of Gotham. Grand Avenue was not somewhere I visited often. It was touristy and usually expensive, with the shows going on during the week that I’d never considered watching. I wasn’t the biggest theatre fan so this was all very new to me. 

And all the glitz and the glamour made me feel as if I were standing in that penthouse once again, staring at the chaotic man that still plagued my thoughts. It was so strange how now, dressed in an elegant gown, accompanying a wealthy man to the opera house felt more terrifying than seeing him again. 

The lights of the Gotham Metropolitan Opera House were bright in the distance and my back stiffened at the sight. It was a monstrous, sleek, and modern building, towering at least seven stories at the far end of Grand Avenue. Across the front was a glass facade with arches stretching to the full height of the structure. 

I felt like an idiot, nearly pressing my face to the glass of the car window to get a better look, and finally peeled myself away as the driver glanced back at Matt. “Shall I pull to the front?”

“That’ll be fine, thank you.” He smiled at me and reached up to brush his knuckles along the curve of my jaw. “No need to make us walk in the cold more than we have to.”

I smiled and leaned into his touch. 

But all too soon, the car circled the front of the opera house and came to a stop, sitting idle near the front. Other cars were waiting, mostly town cars of the wealthy variety and Matt took my hand before opening his door. In a rush of the winter air, he pulled me out onto the pavement and I could feel myself gawking up at the opera house like before.

It was even bigger in person. Too stunned to even breathe, I looked around at the others making their way toward the enormous, glass doors. Everyone was dressed elegantly and looked like pictures of sophistication. Did I fit in with this? I felt very much out of place. I searched the crowd for anyone who looked like me, anyone that didn’t quite fit. Were they all better than I was at pretending?

These people knew wealth and glamour and I was just playing pretend.

With my hand clinging to his arm, Matt steered me into the opera house and I tilted my head back to look at the absolutely enormous chandelier hanging above our heads. The crystals caught the lights and cast thousands of tiny prisms over the marble floor. Directly in front of the entrance was a grand staircase, adorned with a plush, red carpet up the middle. At the top, it split into two different directions leading further up.

“Wow,” I whispered. “This is…”

“It’s beautiful, but nothing compared to you.” Matt’s words made me both blush and scowl up at him. I was going to have to put a stop to that. Compliments were alright but enough already. I didn’t need them constantly and actually would prefer if he’d gawk around like me. Then again, he was used to this kind of thing. But if I was playing pretend, the least he could do is play it with me.

We followed the thick, red carpet up the main stairs and I couldn’t help looking down at my fingernails. They almost matched the carpet perfectly. The aged marble floors beneath it were gorgeous with veins of dusty blues and gold. Everything was a mix between modern and classical, from the architecture to the soft, orchestra music playing from somewhere deep within the theater. On each wall were paintings that looked as if they belonged in a museum, mounted in ornate, gold brushed frames. 

Matt led the way up and up the staircase and I hoped he didn’t notice how out of breath I was by the time we reached the fourth floor. I tried to hide it well and was thankful for the extra swipe of deodorant I had applied while getting ready. As we moved around to a narrow corridor that stretched on the sides of the main stage, I eyed the rooms we passed. There were thick, crimson curtains hanging every several yards, tied back to reveal balcony seats and I glanced up at Matt.

He had a guilty look on his face and he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I  _ might  _ have used my father’s connections to get us a private box.”

I knew he was trying to be sweet, that he wanted tonight to be special for us since it was almost a month to the day since he asked me out, but god damn, everything he did was a reminder of the differences between us. And if I didn’t delight in the fact that he had planned all of this for me, for us to enjoy together, then I was a bitch. 

I was the bitch that couldn’t just accept things for what they were and get over it. I forced a smile, knowing that the best thing to do was fake it until I made it. And as Abby had said, so what if Matt had money? If  _ he  _ wasn’t bothered by how broke I was, then why should I be?

Widening my smile into a grin, I used my grip on his arm to pull him closer. “Does that mean we get to do private things in the private box?”

He glanced behind us as a few other couples were ducking into their own privacy boxes and he grinned. “As long as we don’t make too much noise, I don’t see why not.”

The corridor ended with an emergency exit and Matt pulled aside a thick, crimson drape. The inside of the box was definitely private, with the seats within already shadowed despite the soft light from the recessed fixtures above us. It was intimate--except for the massive open space looking down at the stage, of course. Below our balcony, the main floor seating stretched up in a slant and I moved to the railing, staring down at the wide stage. 

It was exactly as it looked when I Googled it earlier that day and I let out a small breath of a laugh. “Wow.”

For several minutes, he let me stand there, watching the crowd of people find their seats and I took it all in with a shake of my head. How strange it would be to live this life all the time. 

Overhead, the lights dimmed and a quiet hush fell over the rest of the crowd. The balcony seats across the floor from us were filling up fast and I spun on my heel to take a seat next to Matt. He took me by the hand and guided me down to the chair. As soon as I sat down, he leaned over and slipped his hand against my jaw.

We were kissing within seconds and I sighed in content.  _ This _ was up my alley. Making out like teenagers, ignoring the crowd around us. If the rest of the night went by like this, I wouldn’t mind sitting through a couple of hours of Shakespeare. 

Hell, maybe we would leave early and take things back to my apartment. 

The lights dimmed once more and finally stayed dark and the murmuring of voices below came to a quiet stop. Matt pulled away from my lips and I nearly fell into his chest, completely caught off guard by his abrupt stop.

“Oh, it’s starting,” he whispered. 

Okay, so apparently we wouldn’t be making out during the show. 

From the orchestra below the stage, the soft sounds of violins and cellos filled the theatre and a red light slowly brightened on the actors taking their places. I cleared my throat and sat up straight, smoothing my skirt down my thighs. I crossed my legs at the knee and settled into the mildly uncomfortable chair for the next few hours. 

Twenty minutes into the damn thing, my ass was falling asleep and I tried to shift my weight from one side to the other. No matter which way I sat, I found no relief and rubbed at my left hip as it tingled annoyingly. From below, the performers were belting out songs in a language I couldn’t exactly make out. 

French? 

That didn’t make much sense. Shakespeare was English. 

While I tried to surreptitiously wake my backside up, Matt leaned over to me and I quickly flashed a smile. “I’m going to run to the bathroom before it gets good.”

“Okay,” I said, watching him stand up. He reached down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before he ducked out of the curtain. “Thank God.”

I stood from my chair and stepped to the shadows in the corner of the private balcony. Hopefully, the dark color of my dress would conceal me in the shadows and no one would wonder what the hell the crazy woman was doing. I’m sure I looked insane, hopping on one foot in the corner and it nearly made me laugh.

Finally, the feeling was returning to my hip and thigh and I put a hand over my mouth to quiet the giggle I let out. With a glance over my shoulder, I was thankful that the other balconies were just as dark as this one and I was almost sure no one had witnessed my strange dance. 

Turning on my heel, I faced the seats once more and was surprised by the feel of the curtain brushing against the back of my heels. “That was fast--”

My words were sucked in with a sharp breath as I was taken by the wrist and spun back around toward the darkened corner of the box. That cursed smile, lit by the lights on the stage, widened as I stared up into it in horror. A breath filled my lungs and my first instinct was to scream, my lips parting. Joker was quick to notice and with his other hand, he held a knife up and traced the edge of my bottom lip with the sharpened edge of the blade. 

It didn’t matter. I couldn’t scream. The breath I sucked in had brought the smell of him into my senses and it was immediately dizzying.

Long gone was the acrid smell of gasoline and burnt matches. It surprised me when I inhaled the subtle scent of a fresh shower and soap and I was ashamed that I leaned closer to him. Just like the first time I saw him, the smell of him was everywhere all at once, and before I could stop myself, I took another deep breath of it. 

“ _ Careful _ , sweetheart. Wouldn’t want to cause a panic, would we?”

His eyes drifted down the length of my face and finally settled on my chest pressed against his own. With each ragged breath, I could feel the warmth of his body sinking through me, satisfying the need for it that I had been trying to ignore. I blinked through the blur collecting at the corners of my vision and managed to whisper. 

“Where’s Matthew?”

Joker smacked his lips and rolled his eyes, dropping the knife from my face. I knew it was still a threat though. I knew all too well that he was no stranger to using one on me. Before memories of the last time he had used that knife on me flared up, I glared up at him and tried to free myself from his grip. It was no use. With a tug on my wrist, he pulled me back down to my chair and I watched him lower down into the other. He reached between his thighs to grip the seat and pulled it as close to me as possible.

“He’ll be a bit occupied for a while, so we’ve got plenty of time to  _ talk _ . Unless there’s something  _ else _ you prefer to do.” Again, he let his gaze drift lower to take in the sight of my dress. 

“What did you do to him?” I snarled, finally wrenching my arm out of his grip. 

“Nothing he won’t survive.” The tip of his tongue at the corner of his lips distracted me for a moment. I couldn’t let him get to me. Not now. Instead, I looked down at his attire while he admired mine. He was wearing a black sport coat and a wrinkled, faded grey button-up shirt beneath it. My eyes quickly lifted and found his gaze piercing through me. “ _ Hmm _ , nice dress.”

“What are you doing here? What if someone sees you?” I hoped he could hear the annoyance and fury in my tone. The smile on his face told me he definitely heard it and he didn’t care. 

“Then they’ll probably start  _ rumors _ about us, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that,” I hissed, glancing cautiously at the other balcony seats. No one that I could see seemed to be paying us any attention and I frowned. “It’s bad enough that I’ve got detectives questioning me because of you. If they think for one second that I’m involved with you--”

His sigh cut my words off. “I  _ told _ you, Natalie. They’ll be  _ dealt _ with.” Before I could even roll my eyes at him, he leaned a bit closer. “But let’s not talk about that right now. We have some  _ unfinished _ business to discuss.”

A fiery tingle spread through my body, settling far too low in my belly, begging to be relieved and I let out a shaking breath as I shook my head. “No, we don’t. I’m done with you.” 

I tried to stand, wanting nothing more than to put distance between us because he smelled  _ too _ good, but he didn’t let me. Snatching me by the elbow, Joker jerked me back down into my seat and leaned even closer to me. I could feel his knees between mine, pushing the skirt of my dress up the length of my thigh. In his new position, the light from below us revealed more of him and I finally noticed that his hair was pulled back out of his face. I stared into the darkness of his eyes, completely frozen. I had forgotten the intensity behind them and it left me feeling scorched. 

“That’s too bad, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and nearly growling. “Because I’m _nowhere_ finished with you.” I opened my mouth but quickly silenced the cry of pain from his hand tightening around my elbow. “You think just because I’ve been away for a while that you can take _my_ money? No, I expect you to repay _every_ _cent_.”

Clenching my teeth tightly, I managed to jerk my arm free from him and knew he let me. Blinking back the tears burning at the corners of my eyes, I glared at him. “What was I supposed to do? I was broke, about to be thrown out on my ass. Did you really expect me not to use that money?” 

It was a struggle to keep my voice to a whisper. I wanted  _ so _ badly to scream at him. 

“Oh, I was  _ counting _ on it.” Joker’s gaze trailed down to my chest and back up once more and I watched him lick the corner of his lips before they stretched into a wicked grin. His words made my blood run like ice in my veins. It instantly sent chills rolling down my spine and the feeling of the cold fear seeping back in was a strange mix with the heat of arousal already settling within me. 

“I’ll write you a check,” I whispered, searching his eyes for anything other than that unfathomable darkness. Even if I had to sell everything I owned, I would gladly repay every cent if it meant he would leave me alone.

“I’d rather you work off your debts the  _ old fashion _ way, Natalie.”

The heat of his palm on my knee made me suck in a sharp breath. I hadn’t realized that my skirt had even fallen open. Fuck, why did I have to get a dress with a slit? I closed my eyes just for a moment, unable to stop my body from responding to his touch and dragged in a shaking breath. 

In a single instant, all of the desire and want I had tried to erase came rushing back like a rush of flames. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, and I struggled against the flood of it all. For just a split second, I wanted to give in. I knew the things he could do, the pain and pleasure he would give me, and all of my strength and resolve started to crumble. But beneath it all, there was still that hatred for him that stopped me from going further.

Even as his hand moved further up my knee, fingers dipping beneath the fabric of my skirt to blaze a trail over my thigh, I knew I couldn’t let this continue. Not in the middle of an opera house and certainly not when Matt was lying half-dead in the bathroom!

Angrily, I snapped my eyes open to see the desire etched into his own face and shoved his hand away. It was too late though. He had seen exactly what he had been looking for and though he let his hand fall away, I knew he could see how badly I was fighting my desire. Joker knew what I wanted, even when I tried my hardest to hide it from him.

“I missed that _ look _ in your eyes, Natalie,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to my face. He still had the knife gripped in his hands but he managed to curl his fingers around my chin. The sharp sting of the edge of the blade against my jaw made me wince but it hadn’t cut me. “You can try to deny it all you want, but we both know you  _ want _ to give in.”

Slowly, he slid his grip down lower, fitting perfectly around my throat. I could feel his fingers finding the same spots he had bruised over a year ago and I jerked away from him. His laugh was infuriating, even when he was trying to keep it quiet. 

“No, I don’t,” I snapped. “Maybe you’re mistaking my disgust for something else.” 

With another mocking chuckle, Joker stood to his feet and brought his hand back to my chin. He tilted my head back and I glared up at him. I was powerless against him and all I could do was watch as he leaned down until he was barely an inch from my face. I knew he could hear how shaky my breath was and could see the look of anticipation in my eyes. 

A single strand of hair near his temple fell and brushed across my cheek, making me close my eyes. Every single muscle in my body was tight and tense and I realized I was gripping the back of my chair so hard, my knuckles were turning white. 

I could barely feel the ghost of his lips on mine and drank in the warmth of his breath as he whispered to me once more. 

“I’ll see you soon to  _ collect _ those  _ debts _ , sweetheart.”

And with that, the fingers beneath my chin fell away and I opened my eyes in time to see the curtain swinging back into place behind him. All at once, my breath came out in a shudder and I folded in on myself, dropping my head into my hands. Fingers trembling against my face, I sucked in several deep breaths, trying to calm myself and steady my racing pulse. 

The music and singing from the stage down below came rushing back and I sat up, brushing my hair from my face.  _ Fuck _ ! 

I hated him so much. 

And I hated myself even more for wanting him. 

Standing to my feet, I snatched my clutch from the floor beside my chair and threw the curtain aside. If he hurt Matthew, if he was lying dead on the bathroom floor, I was going to kill that asshole with my bare hands. 

I rushed through the corridor and nearly missed the bathrooms that sat on the far right hall next to the stairs. My heels stumbled on the carpet as I rushed to the door and threw it open. It was quiet inside and the bang of the door hitting the wall behind it echoed throughout the room. The bright lights made me wince and I blinked to adjust. 

“Matt?” I called, waiting for a response. Had he gone to a different floor?

Toward the back of the bathroom, a quiet groan made the panic within me flare back to life and I rushed into the room. My heels clicked across the tile and I threw open each stall door as I passed until I found him. He was in the one on the far end and I stared down at him in disbelief, crumpled and wedged on the floor between the stall and the toilet.

His jacket was gone and I clenched my teeth, recalling the sleek, black jacket Joker had been wearing. That fucker had taken his jacket? Dropping my purse to the floor, I knelt down beside Matt and cradled his head before tapping his cheeks. He groaned again but blinked his eyes open. There was a bright, red smear on the white tile beneath him and I gasped, sliding closer to him. 

“Wha?” He tried to say, wincing at the bright lights above us as I had. “What happened?”

“I think you were jumped.” I put my hand beneath his head and cursed beneath my breath. He was still bleeding but not much. “Can you sit up?”

“Yeah, I--I think so." I hooked my hands beneath his arms and gently pulled him until he was sitting up. A frown twisted across his face and he reached up to touch his head. His words were still sluggish but he was finally able to look up and focus on my face. He even let out a quiet scoff. “I can’t believe I was robbed in the bathroom at the Gotham Met. This really is a rough city.”

It was a relief to hear him joking and I let myself laugh softly, though a lump was pressing into the back of my throat. Matt reached up to grab the toilet paper dispenser and, standing at his other side, I helped him get to his feet. After only a momentary wobble, he seemed to be steady enough to walk and I ducked beneath his arm as I led him out of the stall. 

“You have no idea.”

* * *


	5. Think of Me

* * *

_If I keep my eyes closed  
_ _He feels just like you_

* * *

If there was only one thing worse than my brush with Joker on Saturday, it was these damn dishes I had been neglecting. I only had myself to blame--for letting both situations get as bad as they were. Doing something as mundane and routine as the dishes after what had happened over the weekend was bizarre. It was too normal. But so far, I hadn’t heard a peep from a certain clown.

Cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder, I scrubbed vigorously at the oatmeal caked to the side of the bowl and sighed. Concentrating on a basic task like this might help get my mind off of thinking about him. Cleaning was always my go-to when I wanted to distract myself but so far, nothing was helping me forget.

For the past half hour, I’d been telling Abby about what had happened, letting her gasp and react with shock at the appropriate times. She clucked her tongue in disappointment and I squeezed the phone tighter to my head to keep it from dropping into the dirty water. 

“I can’t believe that. Well,” she scoffed. “I can and I can’t. This  _ is _ Gotham, after all. But at the opera?”

“Yep. Matt had to spend all day dealing with the bank and credit card company. So far, there wasn’t any money stolen.” Which begged the question--

“Then why take his wallet?” Abby asked for me, making me pause with my fingers dipped into the grimy water. I shook my head and pushed the scrubbed harder onto the edge of the bowl. 

“No idea.” Oh, I had a few ideas, but they all kept me awake at night if I thought about them for very long. If Joker had Matt’s information, there’s not much he couldn’t do or find out with it. That made me incredibly nervous and a bit sick to my stomach. 

“Did he make a police report?”

“No.” Thank the gods above! I wouldn’t have known what to do if those two detectives came to question me about something else. “Said it’s not even worth the trouble. Gotham PD doesn’t exactly have a great track record.”

On the other end of the call, Abby laughed. “I don’t know. I think this new commissioner is shaking things up. You know, my mom’s new boyfriend is friends with some cops and he says there’s a ton of pressure right now for them to catch the Joker. Like they’ll jump at any chance to find him.”

My hands stilled as I reached for the faucet knob and I stared at the dull, white paint on the wall behind the sink. What she said made sense, but I hadn’t thought of it that way. No wonder they had come to visit me. If they were grasping at any straw, any connection to Joker, then they’d for sure be watching me for any little clue.

And if they were watching me, then I couldn’t let him get to me again. I didn’t want to think about what he would do if they locked me up and I wasn’t sure which was worse--him letting me rot in prison or him trying to break me out. A life of running was not for me. 

I had to change the subject and fast, otherwise I was going to get too nauseous to finish the dishes and they had to be done tonight. I cleared my throat and quickly dried my hands on my shirt before switching the phone to my other ear. “Which is why they won’t care too much about a random mugging. I feel awful though.” 

“I feel awful for him. Is he cutting his trip short? I know I wouldn’t want to stay in this city if it were me.”

“Not that I’m aware of. He and his dad are still working out his deal. It could take several weeks to finish but, um…” Glancing at the clock, I winced. I only had about half an hour left to finish cleaning the kitchen, my bedroom and shave my legs before seven. “He’s staying the night tonight.” 

“Oh?” I could hear the playfulness in her tone and it made me roll my eyes. “Is tonight  _ the _ night?”

“Please, you make it sound like I’m losing my virginity or something.” And well, I might as well be. It had been over a year since I last had sex and I definitely needed to erase that experience. Even as I thought it, I knew that unless Matt was some sort of sex-god, I wouldn’t forget the night I’d spent in that warehouse office.

It had been lurking in my head for far too long and I had spent too many nights laying in bed, replaying it over and over. And it never failed. Each time it replayed, each time I thought of the dirty things he said to me, the dirty things he’d  _ done _ to me, that same heat coursed through me and sizzled just beneath the skin.

Like a drug, it called to me, begging for me to relapse. Just one more time wouldn’t hurt. One more taste--just to take the edge off. 

“I’m just excited for you,” Abby said, cutting through my thoughts so suddenly I nearly dropped the phone in the sink. “You need to get laid, Nat.”

“I know.” Boy did I ever. “I’m excited too, actually.”

And that wasn’t a lie. I  _ was _ excited, and not just because my dry spell was coming to an end but because having Matt here gave me a sense of security. Joker was bold, but I was fairly confident he wouldn’t show up if I wasn’t alone. He was still lying low, still in hiding while the cops thought he was high tailing it to Canada.

Not to mention, if having sex with Matt  _ did _ start to make those memories fade, then that was two birds with one stone. 

“What do you have planned for tonight?”

“Oh, he’s bringing takeout and we’re probably going to watch a movie or something.”

Abby laughed, making me smile. “Or something...I know what that means. You crazy kids better behave yourselves.”

I opened my mouth to give her a sarcastic response, but a sharp knock at the door made me start. My jaw snapped shut and I looked at the time with a frown. He was so early! I wasn’t even dressed yet. 

“Shit, I gotta go. He’s here early.”

“Oh, he’s eager! Go get ‘em, tiger!” With a roll of my eyes, I hung up the phone and padded across the kitchen to the front door. I looked down at myself with a huff of annoyance.

A wet handprint was streaked across the bottom of my shirt and I still hadn’t shaved my legs. Hopefully, Matt wasn’t the kind of guy to care if a woman had two-day stubble growing. Leaning forward, I blinked at the peephole and found no one standing there.

It instantly made my stomach drop a bit inside me and I backed away, keeping my hands on the door. It felt like a trap like if I opened the door I would be snatched and dragged to some secret location deep in a part of Gotham I’d never been. But I couldn’t stay hidden away.

If he wanted me out of this apartment, he’d get me out. 

Slowly, my hand lowered to the deadbolt and I twisted it with a click that made me flinch. I pulled the door open and carefully poked my head out. The hallway was clear. Not even the elevator seemed to be occupied. It was quiet down the hall and none of the lights above it were lit.

Had I been hearing things? I could have sworn someone knocked at my--

My eyes dropped to the floor in front of my apartment door and the small, rectangular package sitting there. On top of the brown, paper wrapping was a green bow and I knew in an instant who it was from. Usually, they came in the mailbox with no return address but now he was having them delivered to my door?

I stood there staring at the damn thing, knowing it was best to just kick it down the hall, forget its existence, and slam the door behind me. But he knew I wouldn’t be able to do that. Just like every package before, I didn't get rid of it. I bent down to scoop it up and brought it inside, scowling down at the bow. 

The color was almost a perfect match to the shade of green of the dress I had been wearing Saturday night that it made me shake my head. How did he always have so much attention to the minor details? In a weird way, if it were anyone but him, I’d find it romantic. But knowing he did things like this, paid attention to the things I’d never notice, for the sake of tormenting me, sucked all the romance out of it.

I hooked a finger around the flap of paper and ripped it open to reveal the nondescript box within. The lid slid off and I tossed it onto the table. Inside was the same as always; crimped strips of paper cut from magazines covering the contents of the box. 

Taking a seat at the table, I brushed aside a few of the paper strips and pulled out the glossy, black and white photo. There was only one this time and it made my breath halt in my lungs. It was from Saturday night, taken right outside my apartment building.

My head was tilted back, a smile of slight embarrassment on my face with Matt at my side. We were facing the car, hurrying to duck into it, and from the angle the picture was taken at, whoever the photographer was seemed to be across the street and down the block. 

There was another apartment complex there, and a few office buildings. Could he be hiding out there in one of them?

I bit my lip and frowned at the red marker streaked across Matt’s face in the photo. There were scribbled X’s on his eyes and a red frown across his mouth. Above his head, Joker had written something that made me narrow my eyes in irritation. 

_ You can do better _

The absolute nerve of him! Rolling my eyes, I slapped the photo onto the table face down and reached further into the box of paper. He always left me a note so I knew there was something else inside. But my fingers didn’t find the usual slick playing card. Instead, I pulled out a long slip of paper that looked like a receipt for something. 

I flipped it around and stared at the words, my eyes narrowing in confusion the more I stared at it. In the upper, left corner was a familiar title printed in red letters. Gotham Savings and Loan. It was a deposit slip and the name on the account was one that was familiar but not my own. 

An electronic transfer of funds in the amount of five hundred thousand dollars had been deposited into my account--or, whoever’s account. Jaclyn Napier’s name was on it, but that didn’t mean anything. That person didn’t exist but  _ someone _ was clearly still controlling the account. 

I remembered all too well the words he had said to me Saturday night as he leaned so close I could feel the warmth of his breath across my face. He knew I had been using the money he left behind and had counted on me using it. Even now, I was embarrassed by how easily I had walked into another one of his traps. 

But, seeing the deposit slip made me frown. If he had this kind of money, then what the hell did he need me to pay him back for the couple of thousand I’d spent? A gnawing feeling clawed at the inside of my stomach. I set the slip of paper down on the table and lowered my hands to my belly. I knew the answer to my question but I was denying it, still trying to convince myself that it wasn’t true. 

He didn’t need my money.

He just needed to have some control over me.

My eyes burned from staring so long without blinking and I reached up to rub at the corners, already feeling exhausted. With a glance at the clock, I cursed beneath my breath. Matt would be here soon and I still needed to shave my legs. There was no use dwelling on this issue tonight. 

I scooped up the things he’d sent me and tossed them back in the package before hurrying to my bedroom. Beneath my bed, the box of twisted momentos I had been keeping was pulled out and I quickly tossed the photo and deposit slip inside before dumping the package into the trash. For some stupid reason, I kept the bow.

Why was I holding onto things like they had sentimental value when in reality, they were just fucked up? It didn’t make a bit of sense but throwing it away seemed...wrong for some reason. 

I kicked the box back under the bed and peeled my shirt off, tossing it into the hamper behind my door. There was just enough time to hastily shave my legs before Matt came over and I didn’t want to worry about stubble our first time having sex. 

I just wanted  _ one _ night to be normal for once. 

In record time, my legs were shaved with only two nicks that I quickly washed and dried with my towel. By the time I was dressed in a pair of my nicer pajama pants and a tank top, my phone was ringing from the kitchen.

I hurried across the apartment and picked up the device, turning it to stare at the number on the screen. Local. Unsaved. 

My stomach hit the floor as my heart pounded in my throat. I darted my eyes to the clock and shook my head. No. There was no way I was going to deal with this when Matt was almost here! But I knew if I didn’t answer, he would just keep calling or worse--show up!

I smashed my thumb into the answer button and put the phone to my ear. Before I could answer, he was speaking.

“ _ Good  _ evening, Natalie.”

I sighed and made sure he could hear exactly how irritated I was in it. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Oh?” There was humor dripping from his tone as if he were trying not to laugh as he spoke. “What could possibly be more important than  _ this _ ?”

“As if I’d tell you.”

The laugh he was holding back came out and I rolled my eyes. “You know you have no  _ secrets _ with me, Natalie. Let me guess,” he cleared his throat and I could just imagine the teasing look in his eyes. “It has something to do with a certain  _ Matthew Hawthorne _ .”

The way he said Matt’s name made me bristle and I put my hand down on the kitchen counter. My eyes glanced to the window across the room and I wondered if he was staring into my apartment right now. Of course, he wouldn’t see much aside from my blinds and curtains but for some reason, I just knew he was close to me right now. 

“Leave him alone,” I said through clenched teeth. “He hasn’t done anything to you.”

“Yes, he  _ has _ .”

“I swear to god if you don’t leave him alone--”

“It’s a little personal, you see. He’s--ah, taken something of mine and I want it  _ back _ .”

Ice seeped slowly into my veins and I took my bottom lip between my teeth. That  _ something _ was me and I didn’t know how to feel about him wanting me back. A part of me--the part I hated the most--was excited. The feeling lasted for a split second, just a trickle of electric heat jolting through me, and I quickly pushed it down and focused more on my anger. 

“I am  _ not _ yours,” I snarled. Before I could say anything else, a knock at the door made me suck in a breath and I spun to stare at it. My heart was in my throat, beating fast against the back of my tongue and making me feel sick.

At my ear, Joker’s voice was low and a deep rumble that made me squeeze my eyes shut tight. “Oh, I wonder who  _ that _ could be.”

Slowly, I tiptoed to the door and ducked to peek through the peephole. The sight of Matt’s familiar frame pulled a breath of relief from my throat and I quickly spun away from the door, crossing back into the kitchen so I could speak again. “I’m warning you--”

His laugh cut my words off and I glanced worriedly back at the door. Before Joker could say anything else, I put my phone to my chest and called out to Matt. “Just a sec!”

“I like this feisty side of you, sweetheart,” Joker said as I lifted the phone back to my ear. “It, uh, really gets me  _ going _ .”

“I have to go.”

“Not just yet. I have a  _ proposition _ for you.” Every syllable and emphasis on his words made the jolts of heat fire through me and I cursed every one of them. It wasn’t fair.

“I’m not interested,” I mumbled. The feistiness in me was fading fast and replaced with the anxiety and need to end this call  _ now _ . 

Joker sighed, though there was no irritation in the sound. It was a gesture to frustrate me even more than I already was and it worked. “Well, I  _ suppose _ I could always stop by and change your mind. But I’m sure your new  _ beau _ might get jealous if he sees the way you  _ look _ at me.”

“God, you’re so annoying,” I breathed, spinning on my heel to face the door once more. This wasn’t ideal but if I wanted to prevent Matt and Joker from ever being in the same room with one another, then I had to do this. “Just hang on.”

I reached for the doorknob, twisted it, and threw it open to Matt’s smiling face. He held up a bag of takeout and I grinned. The smell of greasy noodles and vegetables made my stomach grumble, but I couldn’t eat just yet. Not until I dealt with a certain problem chuckling in my ear. 

As Matt stepped into my apartment, I pointed to my phone and mouthed  _ mom _ , hoping he bought it. Then again, why would he not? With a nod, he put a finger to his lips and set the bag of food down on the table while I high tailed it to the bathroom. Shutting both my bedroom door and the bathroom as I hurried inside, I sighed and dropped down onto the edge of the tub.

“Let’s make this quick.”

“Mm,” he hummed, the sound making me bite my lip. “It’s more  _ enjoyable _ if we take our time.”

Fuck, why did he have to say things like that? I leaned forward and put my head in my hands as I propped my elbows onto my knees. “I just want to have a normal night for once. So please, just tell me what you want so I can hang up on you.”

“Fine. As much as I  _ adore _ chasing you through the city, hunting you down and  _ dragging _ you from the hotel rooms you hide from me in, I thought I’d take a  _ different _ approach this time.” He paused, probably for dramatic effect, and just as I opened my mouth to tell him to spit it out, he spoke. “I want to show you something.”

His words surprised me. I sat up and stared at the bathroom sink across from me cluttered with all of my makeup and toiletries. “Show me what?”

“It’s a  _ surprise _ . Friday at nine.”

“I have plans.”

“And now you have  _ other _ plans. Don’t make me  _ come _ find you, Natalie. You know better than to think you can hide from me.”

Yes, I definitely knew better. Even locked away in Arkham, he somehow knew where I was, knew where I’d be. The thought of him stalking me  _ should _ have disturbed me, but it no longer had the same effect on me. Sure, the sinking dread was still there but so was something else. Almost like I was starting to like being chased. I rolled my eyes and stared up at the ceiling.

“If I do this, will we be even?”

“ _ Far _ from it. But I might knock a  _ few _ dollars off of your debt.” He paused to chuckle softly, the sound deep and warm and filled with wicked things that made that twisted side of me come back to life. “Maybe you can figure out a way to  _ knock  _ a few  _ more _ off.”

“Ugh, you’re a prick.”

“And yet,” he said with a smack of his lips that brought visions of his bright, slick tongue into my head. “You can’t stop thinking about me,  _ can you,  _ Natalie?”

I swallowed tightly and gripped the edge of the tub beneath me. He didn’t wait for my answer, didn’t really need to. Somehow, he already knew it.

“Tell me,” he started, taking a breath. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for whatever he was about to say. “When he  _ touches you _ , do you think of me? Do you  _ pretend _ it's my fingers between your legs, making you  _ quiver,  _ making you  _ come _ ?”

My jaw dropped and the sound I let out was one that I knew would delight him. I couldn’t stop it though. It just tumbled from my throat, somewhere between a gasp and a moan and the sound of his throaty laugh on the other end filled me with frustration and insatiable desire. When I spoke, my voice was trembling. “That...that is  _ none _ of your business.”

Again, he hummed in the back of his throat and I shut my eyes tight as my ears buzzed from it. My body reacted as if he were standing in the same room and it left me breathless. “That’s where you’re wrong,  _ sweetheart _ . See you Friday.  _ Oh _ , and, uh, wear that  _ dress _ . You know the one.”

The call ended, leaving me sitting on the edge of my tub, the phone still attached to my ear as I tried to catch my breath. All I had wanted was one night--one damn night to have a semblance of normalcy in my life. I just wanted to eat takeout, watch a movie, and fool around with the guy I was seeing.

And here, I was instead, hiding in the bathroom, unable to stand because my knees were too weak. Slowly, the phone lowered and I set it in my lap as I took just a minute to sit there and catch my breath. 

Why did he have to do this to me?

Why did I have to like it? Even though I tried  _ so _ hard to resist, tried so hard to tell myself that this wasn’t happening again, that I could be different this time, I knew it was a lie. I lied to my friends, to Matt, to myself. And the one person who could see through all my lies was the one person I hated the most.

Furiously, I wiped at my eyes and stood from the tub. I wasn’t going to let him stop me from having a normal night. No matter how I still trembled from his words, no matter how that heat had now started to sizzle in my lower belly, I wasn’t going to let it stop me from just enjoying tonight. Tomorrow...I’d figure out what the hell I was going to do.

.

.

Despite it being the middle of December, I was sweltering. It had been so long since I slept next to another person that I hadn’t expected to sweat like this. And it wasn’t exactly because of Matt. He was warm beneath the duvet, but nowhere near what I was experiencing. 

An hour or so after he had drifted off, I was still awake, staring up at the dark ceiling of my bedroom, listening to the sounds of the city, and begging for them to drown out my thoughts. It didn’t work. 

I kicked the sheets from my legs and glanced at Matt’s sleeping face. He laid flat on his back, face pointed up and his lips parted slightly for his even, slow breathing. It was strange. I was a stomach sleeper but felt like I didn’t have enough room to stretch my legs out with him in the bed as well, even though he didn't take up much space at all. 

Biting my lip, I shifted my hips on the bed and slowly sat up. I needed some cold water to drink, maybe splash some on my face as well. The longer I laid there, the worse I felt. Not because I was so hot my entire body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but because in the silence and darkness of the room, I couldn’t think of anyone but  _ him _ .

His words had gotten to me, had put things in my head and I hated him for it. I hated that even hours after he had hung up the phone, I could still hear those sounds he made, the hums and sighs and laughter that curled my toes and infuriated me all at the same time. Somehow, I had managed to bury the memories of them deep inside while Matt and I were having sex, but I knew they were still there.

And it’s not like it was bad sex. It was good.

It was cathartic. 

However, I had never worked so hard for an orgasm in my life. But I had to. I couldn’t let Joker be the last man to make me come. I had to prove to myself that I could want something else-- _ someone  _ else other than him. And despite what he had said on the phone earlier, I hadn’t thought of him.

It would be so satisfying to tell him that. I almost couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. Would he be furious or brush it aside like it was nothing? 

Standing in the kitchen, in just my panties, my imagination wandered a bit too far and I found myself imagining him here now. In my sleep-deprived fantasy, he’d be furious, jealous and pacing and I’d stand there, half-naked, and just laugh.

Laughing would only make him angrier and he’d storm across the kitchen to stand before me, tower over me, and try to be frightening. 

Or would he take a different approach? I sipped from the glass of water I had poured for myself and stared at the kitchen table, picturing Joker standing there just behind the chair. I could almost see the dark look in his eyes as he stared at me, watching me, never letting it waver as he came closer.

In this fantasy, he wasn’t jealous...he was determined. 

He knew there was nothing to be jealous of. He knew what I truly wanted.

I blinked quickly and turned to the sink, shaking the thoughts from my head. They refused to leave and an all new fever settled through me that had nothing to do with the temperature. It spiked white-hot as I imagined Joker moving closer behind me, so close that I could feel the brush of his jacket across the back of my thighs.

Even now, alone and in the darkness of the kitchen, I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes as the fantasy shifted. His hands would move toward me, grip me by the hips and bring me back against him to let me feel exactly what I truly wanted from him. 

I pulled my hair to one side and settled it on my shoulder, imagining it was his fingers that brushed across the damp skin at the nape of my neck. My breath was shaky, coming out in quick puffs and I bit my lip as the heat pooling in my belly sank lower, settling between my legs with an ache that I thought had been relieved earlier. 

No.

This was what he wanted.

This was  _ not _ what I wanted!

I opened my eyes and stared down at the glass of water in my hands. I put it to my lips and downed the rest of it in one gulp, hoping it would extinguish the flames inside me. Frantically, I fanned my face and took several deep, calming breaths. 

This was stupid. I had a gorgeous man in my bed who had done his job well hours ago. Standing here, lost to my fantasies of another man was absurd. Squaring my shoulders, I turned to face the bedroom door and figured, if I couldn’t sleep, if I couldn't get these incessant thoughts from my head, then I’d just have to wake him up to distract myself.

Even as I walked across the room, my eyes glanced to the spot I had imagined Joker standing in and tried to picture him watching me leave him behind but he followed along. The image of him burned into my mind carried into the bedroom, following me like a ghost, watching as I crawled back into the bed and straddled Matt’s lap.

He blinked himself awake and looked up at me in surprise. “Hey,” he whispered softly. 

I shook the hair from my face and leaned down to press a kiss to his mouth. When his hands slid up the curve of my thigh and over my hip, I smiled and pulled the sheet out from between us. Matt sat up and slipped a hand between us, searching for the waistband of my panties. 

The back of his knuckles brushed against my lower belly, but more specifically, right over the faint, J-shaped scar that only I knew about. My eyes snapped open and I felt my entire body grow still. But it didn’t matter, Matt was already taking the lead.

He sat up, our chests pressing together, and stretched a hand up my spine, over the damp skin of my neck and into my hair. By now, he had managed to pull my panties to the side and brought me down onto him. I sucked in a breath and turned my head to lay it on his shoulder. 

I stared at the spot in the center of my bedroom where I imagined Joker would be standing. In the shadows and darkness of the room, I could practically  _ feel _ him watching me. My lips parted and eyes shut and my imagination took control.

The hands gently guiding my hips back and forth turned rough and calloused in my mind and I gasped. I buried my face in Matt’s shoulder and took a deep breath, wanting the sharp scent of fire and gasoline to burn the back of my throat. And when I pulled away just enough to press my cheek against his, listening to the ragged breath at my ear, I could almost feel the bumps and ridges of scars.

* * *


	6. Beg

* * *

_ You got me begging for thread _  
_ To sew this hole up that you ripped in my head _

* * *

The sounds of the city, car horns honking, people shouting, sirens off in the distance, faded into white noise behind me. I was faintly aware that I was preventing the stream of afternoon foot traffic from running smoothly. Standing on the sidewalk in the snow, staring down at one of the newspaper stands that stood outside the liquor store down the street from Dr. Greenburg’s office, I probably looked like a crackhead.

But I wasn’t staring off into nothing while I was too high to move. I was staring at the picture on the front of one of the newspapers. Well, the paper could hardly be classified as  _ news _ . It was a tabloid and one of the ones that had a new celebrity’s sex scandal on the front cover every other week.

Today though, it had a familiar mugshot. The issue was printed in color, which was rare unless the story was something juicy. And apparently, with his recent escape and unknown whereabouts, Joker was the juiciest gossip in the city. 

In addition to his mugshot, the  _ Gotham Gossip  _ had printed several other photos in little bubbles around him--all women dressed in clown paint, scantily clad and posing for whoever was behind the camera. Above his smirking mugshot, I stared at the headline and arched an eyebrow. 

_ The Clown Prince and the Women Who Want to Be His Princess. _

It was absurd, absolutely ridiculous,  _ trash _ , and I dug into the pocket of my coat in search of the quarters I had tossed in there after lunch earlier. Before I could talk myself out of it, I slipped the coins into the machine and pulled the door down to snatch one of the issues off the stack.

Who was writing this garbage anyway? I scowled down at the flimsy paper and rolled my eyes. Whoever had written it deserved a strongly worded letter telling them how disgusting they were. He was a murderer and to even put something like this out for everyone to see was pathetic.

So, what did that make me, the person who had spent 75 cents on it?

I clutched the paper beneath my arm and turned away from the newspaper machines, my cheeks growing red that had little to do with the cold nipping at my face. As I marched on my way to Dr. Greenburg’s office, the sounds returned to my ears and I watched a police car race down the street ahead of me.

A few days had passed since Matt had stayed the night on Monday and I was still ashamed of what I had done. It was horribly wrong of me to think of someone else while he was inside me. It was worse knowing that thinking about Joker had given me an intense orgasm that still made my stomach flutter four days later.

I had laid beside Matt, breathless and coming down from the high, and he had been so sweet, kissing and praising me. The shame of what went on inside my own head was almost too much to bear. I let him cuddle me, pulling me close while he drifted off back to sleep and I laid there in my own bed, disgusted with myself.

And here I was, anxious to get to Dr. Greenburg’s office so I could sit in the waiting room and open this tabloid up to see Joker’s face. As if it weren’t already burnt into my mind. 

It didn’t take long to walk the next block over and I pushed the door open, breathing a sigh of relief at the warmth inside. Dr. Greenburg’s office was on the third floor and I quickly made my way to the elevators. A man stepped off in front of me and I slid to the side to let him.

When the doors closed, I pulled the tabloid out from beneath my elbow and unfolded it. There he was again, staring up at me, one corner of his lips lifted in a smirk as if he knew that one day, I’d be looking at this image. Like that smirk was reserved for me.

My gaze slid to the four pictures surrounding his, the women who wanted to be with him. They all looked too good for him. One was blonde, a bit older than me, with long hair down to her waist. Her face was painted like a court jester and she was winking at the camera.

I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the kind of woman he liked...Did the face paint and skimpy clothes do it for him? 

Above me, the bell chimed and the doors slid open to the hall leading to Dr. Greenburg’s office. I quickly clamped the newspaper back under my arm and hurried to the door. The receptionist greeted me with a smile and gestured for me to take a seat. 

I never had to wait long for my appointments but I’d have enough time to at least read the article. If there even was one. For all I knew, there could have been nothing but accounts from these women and nothing about him. I took a seat in the center of the row of chairs and turned away from the receptionist’s desk, hoping she couldn’t see the trashy gossip magazine from where she sat. 

The pages opened to the center, where I knew the main story would be, and I sucked in a tiny breath. Right in the center, bigger than it had been on the front, was his mugshot yet again. It was like a centerfold and I tilted my head to the side to stare at the full length of his face. 

His scars were streaked red with paint, the white fading around his temples and jaw to show the pale color of his face beneath. I’d seen him barefaced before--the last time being the night he had surprised me at the opera house. The thick shadows in the balcony box gave me little light to see his face, of course, but the lights from the stage had given me enough.

A flash of his face, inches from my own, gaze intense and dark, raced through my head and I swallowed tightly. If he was literally  _ anyone _ else than who he was, he would be far too handsome for his own good. Even with the scars.

There was a block of text running down the side of the page and the bottom had the same women from the cover, though their photos were different on the inside pages. The blonde drew my eyes again and I frowned at her lounging back on a bed, the purple silk sheets beneath her. 

Would these women even like him if they knew him like I did? Would they dress up for him, paint their faces and take photos for him if they had been stalked and tormented the way I was?

Then again, who’s to say they haven’t? For all I knew, he could have several women in my same position. If he got tired of me, he could just cast me aside and move on to one of them.

I was surprised by the sudden spike of jealousy that pierced through me. It pinched my brows and I glanced back to his eyes on the opposite page and that infuriating smirk. Was that what he was telling me in the picture? Was he proud of himself for playing me like this?

“Natalie?”

The sound of my name made me whip my head around and I blinked in surprise at the receptionist. She was leaning forward to see me better and her smile was polite if not a bit concerned. She must have been calling my name for a minute. “Dr. Greenburg will see you now.”

“Oh,” I breathed, snapping the tabloid shut. I folded it so his face was no longer looking up at me and tucked it back beneath my arm. “Thank you.”

The walk to the office was short and I smiled as genuinely as I could as I stepped through the door. Like always, Dr. Greenburg was at her desk, wearing a dark grey pantsuit and she lifted her head to flash me a smile as I walked in. She slipped her glasses off and set them down on the desk beside her.

“Good afternoon, Natalie. Come in, make yourself comfortable.” 

I let the door shut quietly behind me and moved to the couch to take my usual seat closest to the wall. Beneath my arm, the tabloid felt bigger and I turned to block it from her view with my body as I set it down and shed my coat. Before she could even take a peek at it, I tossed the coat over it and pulled them both into my lap.

“Would you like some water?”

“No, thank you.”

Nodding, Dr. Greenburg reached across her desk to press the switch on the little box sitting there. Gentle, quiet sounds of the ocean, crashing waves, and a breeze that almost felt warm played soothingly. 

“How are you today, Natalie?”

“I’m good.” I made sure not to fidget my hands in my lap despite the need to. “Work was a bit stressful, but it’s been worse.”

The woman nodded and sat back in her chair, crossing her legs at the knee. “Would you like to talk about those stresses?”

No. I really didn’t want to talk about them. To be honest, I didn’t want to really be here today, but I felt like I was disappointing a teacher or something if I missed a session. Shrugging a shoulder, I glanced to the framed pictures hanging on her wall, finding the Gotham city skyline like always. 

“It’s just a busy time right now. I mean, I know I don’t have the most important job around the office, but it seems like the phone has been ringing off the hook lately.”

“Being a receptionist is definitely important. You’re the first one a lot of clients see and speak to. It carries a lot of stress with it and if you need help dealing with that stress, we could start there.” She watched me, no doubt waiting for me to react but I was careful today. I didn’t want to bring any extra attention to myself, didn’t want her to see that I was hiding something.

With a nod, I smiled. “I guess you’re right. I don’t think the stress is something I can’t deal with though.”

It was a walk in the park compared to what I was really going through. 

Dr. Greenburg nodded and tented her fingers in front of her while she rested her elbows on the arms of her chair. “The last time you were here, you mentioned something about seeing someone.” She leaned toward her desk and glanced down at the yellow notepad where she took notes. “Matthew, was it?”

“Yeah, I’m still seeing him. We’re going out for his father’s birthday tomorrow night.” My throat tightened around the words and I quietly held back a cough. Just thinking about what would happen tomorrow night made that familiar panic bubble through my chest like boiling water. It burned and I wanted nothing more than to scratch at it boiling beneath the surface.

Somehow, I kept my cool and Dr. Greenburg smiled softly at me. “That sounds like an important night. And are you excited about it?”

“Yeah, I’m--” Again, my throat squeezed tight and I put a hand to my throat, trying to clear it. “Actually, could I have that water?”

Dr. Greenburg spun away from her desk to a small, black mini-fridge positioned in the corner of the office. She had an assortment of water and sodas and I took the bottle she handed me with a thankful smile. I twisted the cap, put it to my lips, and gulped two mouthfuls. 

“Thank you.” I laughed nervously and put the cap back on the bottle. “As I was saying, I am excited. I really like him.” 

She nodded, crossed her legs again, and pulled her notepad into her lap. I watched her pluck a pen from the cup on her desk and she read over a line or two on the pad. After finding what she was looking for, she lifted her gaze to me.

"And Matthew isn’t from Gotham is he?”

I shook my head and clutched the water bottle in both hands. “No, he’s not. He’s only here for business with his dad.”

“Have you thought about how you’ll feel when he leaves?”

Her question left me a tad stunned and I blinked at her as my head tried to quickly form an answer. The truth was, I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, I knew he wouldn’t be staying in Gotham, but I hadn’t exactly thought about how I’d feel about him leaving. 

Shrugging, I draped an elbow onto the arm of the couch. “He’ll be here for a while. He mentioned once or twice that deals like this take several weeks.”

Dr. Greenburg adjusted her glasses and I noticed a slight tension across her jaw like she was getting frustrated with me. It was the first time I noticed her react like anything other than a stoic, typical therapist and I shrank back into the couch. 

“It’s important to face how you’ll feel in the future. I know it isn’t always easy to think about sadness or regret before they happen, but to get control of your feelings and not let them run away with you is something that I think will help you come to terms with Matthew’s absence.” What she said made sense but her words made me swallow.

I glanced down to my lap, where the water bottle and coat were stretched over my thighs, covering the magazine beneath it. And there, on the pages of the gossip tabloid, Joker was smirking. His image flashed through my mind quickly and I lifted my head to face Dr. Greenburg.

The words tumbled from my lips before I could stop them. I don’t even know why I said them at all. But once they were out, I couldn’t take them back.

“J contacted me.”

Her pale eyebrows lifted and she was quick to flip back over to the previous page in her notebook. It was more filled than the second page and I clamped my teeth around the inside of my cheek. Why on earth did I say anything? 

It was clear that the wheels were turning in her head as she read through her notes and I shifted on the couch cushion. Tension was pulling at the muscles across my shoulders and that nerve-wracking need to flee had returned. I glanced at the door just as she spoke up. 

“Tell me your thoughts about that.”

“I feel…” How was I supposed to even describe how I felt? I sighed and picked at the peeling label around the water bottle. “Confused. Angry, but also...I don’t know.”

“Those are all valid, even the emotions you can’t put into words.”

My gaze lifted to hers and once again, I couldn’t hold back the words. It was like my brain had been taken over and I was desperate to tell  _ someone _ about what I was struggling with--even if it was only a tiny fraction of the truth.

“He wants to see me.”

“And this is the same J that hurt you, both emotionally and psychologically?” I nodded, hating the way it sounded coming from her mouth. Yeah, he had done those things to me but there was more to it than that. More than she would ever know, more than she would ever understand. “I know you may be feeling some conflicting emotions, but it's important to remember the goals you’re working toward. Do you remember what those goals are?”

Ugh. I wanted to roll my eyes but I resisted and found myself nodding once more. When I had first started seeing Dr. Greenburg, during one of our first sessions, we had worked on a small list of goals to work toward. They were to help me, I knew, but right now I wanted to say forget the goals.

Taking a deep breath, I instead focused on each one of them. I wanted to feel like myself again, to be able to be proud of myself, to stop keeping people out, and to stop blaming myself for what  _ he _ did to me. It was that last one that made me want to scoff and roll my eyes.

“Yeah,” was all I managed to say.

“And what do you think will happen with the goals if you decide to see J?”

I shifted my gaze to that framed, black and white photograph of the Gotham skyline. Somewhere in there, he was hiding, waiting for tomorrow night to show me the surprise he had planned. It should have frightened me. But it didn’t. 

Absently, I answered her. “I’ll get further away from them.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see her nodding and I turned back to face her as she tented her fingers in front of her again. “Exactly. It’s important for you to stay on the path you’re on now if you want to reach those goals.”

“So, you think I should blow him off?” As if I could. As if he’d let me.

Dr. Greenburg took a small breath and let it out her nose, reaching up to take her glasses off to stare at me. “Ultimately, Natalie, I can’t tell you what to do. You’re going to have to make that decision for yourself.” Not what I was expecting, but it gave me a little glimmer of excitement that sparked in my chest. “Do I think it’s a good idea? No. But I do believe you have the strength to do what is right for yourself.”

For a moment, I stared at her and really thought about my options. I couldn’t run or hide from him. He was going to come and find me no matter what I did, so staying away wasn’t exactly an option. But, she was right.

I did have the strength to do what was right for myself. And just because I would be with him again, face to face without a theatre full of people around us, possibly alone, didn’t mean I had to do anything I didn’t want to do. 

I could be strong.

* * *

Shit!

I was late and the cab was currently stuck in the Friday evening traffic that backed up at each intersection. The driver cursed softly and pressed on his horn for someone to move, and I sat back in the seat.

Time was ticking and I didn’t have long if I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. Instead of canceling my date with Matt to sit at home, chew my nails to the quick with worry, I had the brilliant idea to do  _ both _ things on my agenda for the night.

Dinner with Matt and his father at Le Caprice at six and then finish the night with meeting Joker wherever hole or back alley hideout he was hidden away in. The two dates couldn’t be any more different from the other. Not that the latter was a date. 

The thought made heat rush to my face and I quickly reached for the window controls on the door at my right. I rolled the window down just enough to get some cool air and cleared my throat at the smell of exhaust fumes. For some reason, it only reminded me of him and I rolled my eyes as the window closed.

For the past ten minutes, we’d traveled a block and I was tapping my foot impatiently against the floor. And all the while, the meter was going up and up. I wasn’t exactly broke, but my funds weren’t as free-flowing as they once were. Especially since I had stopped using that other account. 

I already owed him too much and until I knew exactly how he expected me to pay him back, I wasn’t about to rack up more debt. Then again, paying him back could be fun. But only if he expected me to repay him in orgasms.

Again, my cheeks lit with heat and I clenched my jaw as I cracked the window a few inches for some of that cold air to cool me off. In the rearview mirror, the driver scowled at me and I ignored him. I nearly asked him if there was any way we could speed this up, but the endless line of brake lights shining ahead of us lifted and we started to move.

Thank god. I was already fifteen minutes late and I really didn’t want to keep Matt and his dad waiting. I had met his father once before but had never really been around him in this kind of setting. It felt very much like I was meeting him properly for the first time and I was nervous.

It settled beneath my armpits and I lifted my arms to try to air them out. The last thing I wanted was damp spots on my blouse before even getting to the restaurant. The cab took a left and I breathed a sigh as the traffic lifted. We drove slow but steadily and I quickly applied another layer of lip gloss, hoping I was dressed appropriately for a place like Le Caprice.

I had looked it up on my work computer earlier and balked at the sight of the fancy interior. Low lighting, chandeliers, white table cloths, and menus that had no prices told me that the place might be a bit too fancy for my casual business attire. But I had no time after work to change.

My slacks, button-up blouse, and flats would have to do. As the cab rolled on, getting closer to the address I had given the driver, I combed my fingers through my hair and pulled the length to one shoulder, securing it with a ponytail. I hoped it looked chic and not desperate. 

Once the car stopped, I handed a wad of bills to the driver and climbed out of the car. God, I was so late!

I zipped around the crowd of people standing near the entrance and hurried inside, looking through the windows for any sign of Matt. A man stepped in front of me, his mustache thin and resting just on top of his upper lip. He looked down his nose at me and forced a smile.

“I’m sorry, do you have a reservation?” The Maître d' asked with a hint of snobbery in his tone.

I blinked up at him and noticed the vest, tie, and jacket he wore. Fuck, this place was way more upscale than I had been expecting. I opened my mouth to apologize when I heard my name behind me. When I spun on my heel to face Matt, I heard the man behind me make a sound of frustration. 

“Hey,” Matt said with a dazzling smile. It made my stomach flutter slightly and I let him pull me into a hug. “We’re all at the bar, waiting for the table. C’mon, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Wait... _ everyone _ ? Who all was here?

His hand slid into mine and he steered me away from the entrance of the restaurant as I tried to wrap my head around what he had just said. There was an intimate section with low hanging, dim lights around a U-shaped bar. It was quite crowded already and we weaved our way around the high tables situated around the room.

A bartender stood in the middle of the bar, wearing a white, button-down shirt and vest. He shook a tumbler and poured the contents of it into a glass as Matt led me around the corner of the bar. Sitting in the stools, I recognized his father and felt my face fall.

Surrounding him on either side were three men, smoking cigars and laughing quietly with one another. They were well dressed and looked exactly what I imagined powerful men of Gotham looked like. As we neared and settled into two of the stools, Matt’s father turned to us and I hoped my nervousness wasn't obvious.

Cal Hawthorne was intimidating. He was a multi-millionaire, confident, and took no shit. From the talk around the office that I had heard, he never lost out on a deal and investors bent over backward to please him. We had met briefly the day he and Matt had first come into Gotham Capital and while he had been polite and friendly enough then, I was meeting him under different circumstances now.

My stomach was a ball of nerves and I flashed what I hoped was a confident smile. Judging by how my voice stuck in the back of my throat like cement, I knew it probably wasn’t. 

“Dad, you remember Natalie.”

“Of course,” he said, plucking the cigar out of his mouth. “Haven’t heard you talk about anything else for the past month. How are you, Natalie?” 

The man reached over and held out his hand and I slid mine against his palm. “I’m good. Sorry I’m so late, I--”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Traffic in this city is hell.” Cal turned to the bartender and lifted his hand, snapping his fingers once to get the man’s attention. “Two bourbons. On the rocks.”

And with that, he turned back to his friends and I blinked in confusion. Had he just ordered a drink for me? I didn’t have the heart to tell him or Matt that I wasn’t a bourbon fan, but the bartender was prompt and dropped two, short glasses down in front of me and Matt. He lifted his to his lips and I hesitated. 

“You don’t have to drink it,” he said, leaning down to talk quietly in my ear. “It won’t offend him.”

Warmth touched my cheeks and I nodded, my hands still reaching for the glass. I tapped my fingernails against it and glanced over at Matt. He looked nice, dressed in a black turtleneck and sport coat. I nodded and lifted my head. “Who are the other three men?”

“Those are some of his friends. They get together every time we come to the city. They drink, talk business, eat and end up making deals that they’ll forget about in the morning. Tonight just happens to be dad’s birthday so I expect they’ll do the same, but spend more money this time.” He said it so casually like it was no big deal.

And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I was making a big deal about nothing but I couldn’t help how uncomfortable I was just being here. I shifted on the stool and lifted the bourbon to my lips, taking a sip of the strong drink. It burned the back of my throat and I ducked my head to hide my grimace.

Thankfully, Matt had turned his attention to the conversations happening beside him and I sat at the bar, looking at the other people sitting around. And while I tried not to, I couldn’t help my mind wandering back to J. What was he doing now? What could he possibly have to show me tonight?

A part of me still had that fear from over a year ago, that maybe this would be the time he decided to put an end to me. The corner of my lips lifted with a small smile and I stared down at the amber liquid in the glass in front of me. A small drop of water rolled down the side and met my fingertip. 

I wasn’t sure why, but I was almost certain he wouldn’t kill me. If he wanted to do that, he could at any moment. Sure, the guy had a flair for theatrics but I didn’t think he would go to such lengths just to slit my throat. 

_ I want to show you something… _

The possibilities of what that something could be were good, bad, and everything in between. I would never figure it out on my own. All I could do was wait. 

But the nervous ball that had settled into my stomach was starting to unravel and settle into a different emotion altogether. I was anxious and would be until I was safe back in my apartment, but there was an anticipation riding behind it. The kind of sensation you’d get at the very tip-top of a rollercoaster right before plunging over the edge.

A hand at the small of my back made me start and I blinked up at Matt. He was standing and smiling, his eyes lifting over my head. “Our table is ready.”

“Oh.” 

I stood, draped my coat over my elbow, and snatched my purse from the back of the stool where I had hung it. Cal and his friends led the way into the dining area and I followed behind like an obedient dog. By now, I was getting used to the feeling of standing out. 

While the other women sitting at the tables around the restaurant were wearing nice dresses, pearl necklaces, and diamonds in their ears, it was almost laughable how I looked in comparison. A scoff bubbled in my throat just as Matt turned toward a table set in the back corner of the dining area near the length of windows that looked out at the street.

As Matt pulled out a chair for me, I lowered into it and draped my coat and purse over my lap. Putting it on the floor or hanging off the chair felt wrong for some reason. I forced a smile to Matt as he took a seat next to me and across from the both of us, Cal ordered a bottle of wine for the table.

Expensive wine, I was sure.

The waiter laid down menus in front of each of us and I put a hand to the corner of the thick, textured paper. Each entree was centered down the page with a small description beneath the title and I blinked. There were no prices just like the pictures posted online. 

Great. I hoped they wouldn’t care about me ordering just a side salad.

While everyone was preoccupied with looking over the menu, I turned to Matt and leaned closer to him. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind but I kind of told Abby we would hang out tonight.”

He lifted his head and narrowed his blue eyes. “Do you need to leave right now?”

“Oh, no. Not until 8 or so. I’ve got plenty of time to eat dinner.” If I could afford it. 

“Good,” he said, his mouth stretching into a smile. 

The waiter returned with the bottle of wine and he presented it to Cal so he could read the label before pouring it into the glasses around the table. As he stepped toward me and leaned over, I put a hand over my glass and forced a smile. “Just water for me, please.”

I could feel the stares of the four men and ducked my head back toward the menu. It wasn’t long before he was ready for our orders and when he turned to me, waiting with a look of snobbish expectation on his face, I cleared my throat. “Um, I'll have a side salad.”

“And what would be on the side  _ of _ ?” The waiter let out a short laugh when I blinked up at him and explained. “We don’t offer the side salad as an entree.”

“Oh.”

“Get her a steak,” Cal spoke up, making my eyes dart to him. He was smiling and lifted his glass to me in a quick toast. 

“Dad, Natalie’s a vegetarian.”

At the opposite end of the table, one of Cal’s friends scoffed and I had to resist the urge to glare at him. I was almost certain Matt had told his father that I was a vegetarian. We’d had a conversation about it and how Cal’s second ex-wife had been a vegetarian. In fact, he specifically told me he  _ had _ mentioned it to his father. I couldn't help feeling like he and his friends were making fun of me.

“Might I suggest the eggplant quiche?” The waiter said, making me nod without even looking up at him. He plucked the menu from my hands and finished taking the orders. Once he stepped away from the table, the conversation picked back up and the man at the corner of the table lifted his wine glass and leaned an elbow on the table.

I stared at his thick, greying mustache as it twitched above his smile. “So, tell me about your latest venture, Cal. I know your trips to Gotham are strictly for business.”

“I don’t mind mixing business with pleasure but Matthew and I are looking for some prime real estate to put in the next line of Hawthorne Condominiums and I think we found the place.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he glanced back at his son. I knew they had been looking at several places but hadn’t heard that they’d settled on anything.

From beside me, Matt reached over and took my hand beneath the table, gently squeezing my fingers. “Thanks to Gotham Capital, dad and I will soon be the new owners of Amusement Mile.”

My eyebrows lifted.  _ That’s _ what he’s been here for? I frowned. “I thought you wanted a place for condos.”

“And we’ll have it,” Cal answered, pulling my attention to him. “As soon as that eyesore is torn down.”

“I spent my summers there as a kid.”

The man to his left, who hadn’t acknowledged my existence all night, scoffed. “That place is long overdue to be demolished.”

“Whole thing is covered in graffiti and who knows what else.” Cal topped his glass off with more wine and I felt my frown deepen. The amusement park had been run down and abandoned for years, but it would be so strange to see it gone. It was sad. “I’ve sent some people out there to take a look around this week and there are several homeless people shacked up. There’s nothing that would help that place. It’d look better as a pile of rubble.”

They broke out into a discussion of business details that I wasn’t exactly interested in and I stared down at the white cloth over the table. Why on earth would they want to put condos in such a bad area? The businesses surrounding Amusement Mile had all fallen victim to the same wave of failure and there was nothing in that part of town but the empty buildings left behind. 

Now it would all be torn down, gentrified, and used to make the Hawthorne's millions more than they needed. I knew I was being overdramatic and sentimental about a place I hadn’t thought of in years, but it didn’t feel right. 

“Hey,” Matt whispered in my ear, making me turn to stare up at him. “Don’t worry about the bill, okay? I’m not going to invite you to a place like this and expect you to pay.”

His words made my throat clench tight and I found myself nodding, though I didn’t want to. I was relieved to know that I wouldn’t have to pay for an expensive meal, but relying on him to pay for everything made me feel...weird. Not just because I wanted to be able to pay for my own things but because I was in such a strange situation with two vastly different men.

On one hand, I had a guy who took me to the opera and nice, swanky restaurants, who wanted to pay for my meals. And on the other, I had a man blackmailing me into repaying everything of his that I had spent. Well, blackmailing was a strong word. So far, it'd been nothing but a threat.

He hadn’t made me do anything. 

But that might change tonight.

Matt’s fingers found mine again and squeezed, pulling me out of my thoughts before they could spiral through the possibilities. I smiled again and nodded, face flushing just as the waiter returned with our food. 

We ate in silence, thankfully. The only conversation circling the table was quiet banter that didn’t involve me and that’s how I preferred it. Though it wasn’t my choice, the eggplant quiche was delicious--far better than the mac and cheese I would have made myself for dinner.

Halfway through the six pieces of quiche that I was trying my best not to scarf down in under a minute, Matt pressed a hand to his jacket pocket and quickly pulled out his cell phone. The screen was lit up and he wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin before pushing his chair back. “Excuse me for just a minute.”

He stood and I had to resist the urge to beg him to stay. Don’t leave me with these men! I don’t know them well enough to be left to carry on a conversation with--

“So, Natalie,” Cal’s voice pulled my attention to him and I swallowed the bite I had been chewing. “Tell me about yourself. We haven’t had much time to get to know one another, but from what Matt tells me, you’re quite the woman.”

Even in the low lighting, I knew my cheeks were bright red. I smiled, though nervousness barely let my lips lift much. “I’m just me. I just work and try to live day by day.” 

And not get caught up in the plans of a psychotic clown all over again. 

“Where do you work?” One of the other men asked, picking up his wine glass. 

“Oh, I work at the firm handling Cal’s real estate investments.”

“You’re a real estate investor?” The other guy said--the one that just now seemed to realize I existed. I turned to stare at him and shook my head, watching as he sawed his knife into the driest piece of steak I’d ever seen. 

“No,” I answered with a quiet laugh. “I’m just the receptionist.”

Silence fell over the table, quickly ending any more laughter that might have wanted to bubble in my throat. The four of them stared at me and I cleared my throat, looking toward the windows. 

“Isn’t that...charming.”

“Matt’s quite taken with you,” Cal said. I ducked my head and nodded, intent on responding but he didn’t get me a chance. I looked up at him as he spoke. “He’s got a good heart but it doesn’t always lead him in the right direction. I can’t tell you how many times I had to tell him as a kid that just because you see a starving dog begging for scraps, don’t mean you gotta bring it home and feed it.” 

All of the sounds of the restaurant blurred in my ears and I stared at the man across from me. His eyes, so similar to Matt’s, icy blue and narrowed, never left mine and I felt frozen to my seat. The quiche I had praised just moments ago was threatening to come up and I tried to blink.

Was he comparing me to a dog?

There was no way. 

I was just being paranoid and ridiculous. But the longer he stared at me, the more obvious it became and I felt the heat of humiliation burned my face. Cal’s friends didn’t look at me. They were very clearly looking anywhere but at me, not to spare me the embarrassment, but because they didn’t give a single fuck about me. I was beneath them.

The familiar prick of tears burned at the corners of my eyes and I struggled to inhale around the lump pressing in my throat. All this time I had thought I was being silly for feeling out of place. It hurt worse knowing I wasn’t the only one to notice.

Beside me, Matt dropped back into his chair and Cal turned to his friend, picking up his glass before launching into a story as if he hadn’t made me nearly cry. I swallowed and blinked down at my lap, sliding my chair back so I could open my purse. 

“What’s wrong?” The question at my right made me suck in a breath that shuddered and I shook my head. 

“Nothing, I just--” my fingers shook as I opened my wallet to pull out a twenty. “I should probably go. And I know you said you’d pay, but I don’t mind picking up my share.” 

Because there was no way I was leaving this restaurant feeling like a starving dog begging for scraps. “Nat, it’s fine. I want to pay--”

I lifted my head once I was sure the tears wouldn’t spill out and forced a smile. “I want to.” I shoved a twenty into Matt’s hand. “I’d feel more comfortable paying for my own food.”

Before he could argue with me about it more, I stood to my feet. The back of my legs hit the chair and nearly toppled it over. Thankfully, to save myself more humiliation, I managed to catch it before it could fall and I stumbled away from the table. I quickly threw my purse onto my shoulder and turned back to the table. 

“Thank you for dinner and--” my throat tightened around the words. All I wanted was to run, to get as far away from this place that I could. I couldn’t look Cal in the eye though I knew he was watching me. “--I hope you have a good birthday. Nice to meet you all.”

Even though none of them had been interested in even knowing my name. I could see Matt standing from the corner of my eye, but I didn’t wait around. The room was starting to feel smaller and smaller around me and I needed air. Though I couldn’t be too sure through the blur of tears, I could feel so many people staring my way and I swiped angrily at the corners of my eyes.

“Natalie,” Matt called behind me but I didn’t stop. I hurried around the host still standing just inside the tall, double doors and I pushed them open into the winter air. Cold swirled around my feet and as soon as it touched my face, I sucked in a deep breath of it. “Hey, are you alright?”

The hand at my elbow spun me around until I was facing Matt once more and I nodded. Now that I was able to actually breathe, I didn’t feel the pressing need to burst into tears. “I’m fine,” I said, waving him off with a feeble attempt at a smile. “I just...I need to get back home. Abby is coming over and we’re going to rent a movie and...I’m fine.”

Even I wasn’t convinced by the lie, but for whatever reason, he didn’t question it. I noticed his lips purse in a line before he glanced back at the doors behind us. They were opening once more and we stepped to the side to let a small group of people pass. “Did someone say something to upset you?”

I shook my head. “No, of course not.”

“I know dad can be harsh sometimes. He doesn’t think before saying things, especially after a few drinks. If he said anything--”

“He didn’t. I promise.” I didn’t want to think about it anymore. It was like rubbing a sore over and over until it was left raw. “I should go.”

For several seconds, with the traffic on the street nearly deafening, we stood on the sidewalk outside of Le Caprice’s and I fought that annoying urge to run. It pressed at the back of my body like invisible hands trying to push me away. I could tell Matt didn’t want to let me leave, but he was at a loss.

So was I.

Nodding, he dropped his hands away from me. “Okay. Call me later when Abby leaves, okay?”

I nodded and let him lean down to press a kiss to my forehead. He rubbed his hands up my arms and pulled away, smiling down at me with a worried expression on his face. 

“You might want to put your coat on. It’s freezing out.”

“Right.”

I hadn’t noticed. My face was still flushed with embarrassment and the cold air felt good against the heat. But to please Matt, I dipped my arms into the sleeves of my coat and pulled it around my body before slipping my purse over my shoulder. We said our goodbyes and I wondered if he noticed the awkward tension between us.

If he did, he didn’t mention it and I hugged my arms around myself as I left him standing in front of the restaurant. Once I reached the corner of the block, I glanced back to see if he was still watching me. He wasn’t. Good.

I had just enough time to get home, change clothes, and prepare myself to see him again. Physically, I was ready. My body was wound tight, tense with anticipation for him only because it knew how good the release felt. It was hard to forget what had happened between us last year.

Every inch of skin he had ever touched or bruised or marked remembered what it had felt like, remembered what he had done and it was craving it still. I couldn’t help thinking of him like a drug and I was the addict. My drug of choice was dangling in front of me, taunting me with the high only he could give me.

But mentally? I wasn’t ready. I was never ready. 

And I never knew how to prepare myself for him. The only thing I knew was that when I was faced with the option to stick around with a table full of old, wealthy men and Joker...well, I’d rather deal with him. 

At least he didn’t pretend to be anything other than what he was.  


* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, no J this chapter but I will definitely make up for it in the next one :) Which is already written. Just have to do edits and I should be posting it in the next few days!


	7. Carousel

* * *

_Chasing after you is like a fairytale, but I  
Feel like I'm glued on tight to this carousel_

* * *

_Oh, and, uh, wear that dress. You know the one..._

Though I wasn’t exactly sure, I assumed he meant the one he had been admiring the night he surprised me at the opera. It’s the only dress he’d seen me in over a year, and while I wasn’t in the mood to wear something this fancy when I had no idea where I was even going, I did what he asked of me.

That was where I drew the line though. I would wear the dress, but I refused to put any more effort into what I looked like. Besides, after dealing with Matt’s father at dinner, I was in no mood to even think about my appearance. I wore the dress, but instead of heels, I had on my comfortable, warm winter boots with a ring of faux fur around the calf.

Beneath the split skirt of the dress, I had pulled on a pair of my warmest leggings and slipped on my winter coat with a thick scarf wrapped around my neck. As for my hair, well...I didn’t expect him to remember the way I had worn it the very time we met--pulled to the side with the length spilling over my shoulder. But that's how I kept it styled after leaving the dinner earlier in the evening.

I told myself I wasn’t wearing it for him, but I couldn’t really find a good enough reason to wear it this way if it weren’t for him. And it only frustrated me more to come to the conclusion that maybe I was.

Why?

Why did I feel the need to impress him at all? What happened to hating him?

The hate was still there, but I had learned a long time ago how fine the line between hate and desire was. Despite all my attempts to build that line back up, despite all the time and the therapy it took to get me to where I am now, he strolls back in and knocks it down like it was nothing. 

And here I was, doing what he asked of me, waiting for him to waltz back into my life and sweep me back up into this whole thing over again. Whatever this thing actually was. 

I was certain that if my neighbors saw me standing in the lobby of the apartment building, wearing what I was dressed in, staring out the front doors, they’d think I was crazy. Thankfully it was a bit late and most of the tenants in the building were older. In the ten minutes I had been standing here, only one man had come in from the cold and he barely glanced my way long enough to notice how strange I was acting.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and checked the time--and if there were any missed calls. It was 8:59 and I had no messages or calls, though I didn't expect otherwise. After all but fleeing the restaurant, I was certain Matt wouldn't _want_ to talk to me. There's no telling what Cal had said about me after I left or what he was telling his son. It stung to think about and I ducked my head to rest my forehead against the cold glass of the door. 

Headlights brightened the street and I blinked in surprise, raising my head as my pulse raced. A black car pulled up to the curb outside and I stared at it, my mouth open slightly.

At one time, the car had been a taxi, but the logo on the side was gone, leaving only the shape of it in the messy paint job. The window rolled down and I stared at the driver peering out. 

Despite the knots in my stomach and my apprehension making it hard to think straight, I opened the door and winced against the blast of cold air. The driver looked at a piece of paper in his hand before looking back at me. He leaned over and called out, “You Jaclyn?”

The name made me slow to a stop and I wanted to roll my eyes. Instead, I sighed, nodded, and headed toward the back door of the car. My hand reached for the handle and a flash of his face ran through my head, making me freeze. Would he be behind the door, sitting there, waiting for me? The thought of his smile, his scars, and the heat of his body just waiting to pull me back in tightened the knot in my stomach but in a different way. It pressed into my lower belly and settled between my legs in that unmistakable, frustrating arousal that only he seemed to give me.

I held my breath and pulled the handle, throwing the door open. There was nothing but the tan, leather seat stretching to the other side of the car and I let out a huff of a sigh. My disappointment was evident in the drop of my shoulders and I quickly tried to mask it as if I could hide it from myself. I slid into the car and shut the door behind me, staring at the red, digital letters displayed on the dashboard. Without a glance back at me, the driver shifted gears and pulled away from the curb. 

We drove in silence through the city, though several times I opened my mouth to ask him where he was taking me. Each time, I clamped my lips together again and decided against it. I wasn’t sure why, but the silence was better than knowing. So I simply stared out the windshield and occasionally glanced at the guy driving me to wherever.

He was middle-aged, a bit pudgy around the middle and it sat around his jaws and chin as well. He wore a thick coat and a baseball cap with the logo ripped off. He was very nondescript, hard to remember if I needed to and I was sure that was exactly the reason Joker picked him for this kind of job. Wouldn't draw too much attention, could easily be forgotten.

After we had been driving for half an hour, the guy reached for the radio and switched it on. The voices from whatever sports show played quietly and I let out a sigh. As the car veered to the right onto the highway leading out of Gotham, switching lanes to exit, I frowned and leaned forward.

“Where are we going?” I finally asked, watching one of the exit signs pass over us. 

The driver glanced back at me with a shrug. “Sorry, doll. I was told not to spoil the surprise.”

Of course. 

Why did I ever think I would get any straight answer when I was dealing with Joker? He lived to keep me--and the entire city--on our toes. I turned my phone over in my hand to check the time. I’d only been gone twenty-five minutes. 

A small part of me worried that Matt would stop by my apartment to check on me, find me gone, and call Abby to ask where I was. That would be the worst-case scenario and I didn’t really see it happening. Matt and I weren’t at _that_ level in our relationship to where he would feel comfortable just coming over. 

He would call or text before just dropping by. At least, that’s what I _hoped_ , because I couldn’t think of a single decent lie to tell him if that happened and I was terrified that after all the lies piling up, I would have no more room left in me for more. I’d already told Dr. Greenburg too much.

If I started telling half-truths to my friends, it would become too easy to let the rest tumble out as well. 

After another exit leading North, I frowned and looked out the window to my right. The buildings were mostly commercial, failed strip malls and abandoned shopping centers. There were gas stations and small clusters of businesses, but not much to see. Not much that would attract someone like Joker anyway. 

Before we went too far, the driver put his blinker on and took another right, heading back to the east, toward the coast. The Gotham skyline wasn't too far in the distance, glittering beneath the thick, winter clouds, and beyond, I could see small glimpses of the black ocean. 

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was taking me to…

My stomach dropped to the seat beneath me and I slid to the other side of the car, pressing my face to the glass. There, just ahead of us and sitting on the abandoned, dark docks was the Ferris wheel I had begged my parents to take me on as a teenager. The lights had been out for years and it now stood like a skeleton in front of the cloudy sky. 

Beneath it, stretching out in both directions was the rest of Amusement Mile, just as dark, just as ominous and I pressed a hand to my belly to ease the ache of nerves. This couldn’t be the surprise. 

I couldn’t even think about it, couldn’t even entertain the idea that this is where he would be taking me, but--it made sense. He wasn’t just stalking me. Apparently, he had been watching Matt and his father closely as well. What the hell did he have to his sleeve this time? I hoped and prayed that I was just being paranoid, that this was just a bizarre coincidence.

I was almost amused, almost impressed by his determination and scheming but as the driver turned the car onto the road leading up to the abandoned park, I felt nothing but anger. How stupid I’d been! Had I really thought he was going to show me something nice, something romantic? I didn't want to admit that a tiny part of me has been hoping for it. 

I felt just as humiliated as I had been at dinner and I almost wanted to scream at the driver to turn the car around and take me home. He wouldn’t let me leave like that. He’d come find me and drag me back. The satisfaction of pissing him off was almost enough to make me do it but I wanted to get this over with.

As the car pulled up as far as it could go, right in front of the archway leading into the park, I frowned and turned to look at the guy in the driver's seat. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and waited patiently in silence. 

“Am I supposed to just get out _here_?”

“That’s what I was told,” the guy said, turning to glance at me over his shoulder. 

“And just walk into an abandoned amusement park in the dark?”

He offered me an apologetic smile that I didn't exactly believe and shrugged. “Sorry doll. I’m just doing what I was told.”

“Right.” I wrenched the handle and pushed the door open, not giving him or the car a backward glance. It was dark on this side of the parking lot, even with the full moon peeking out from behind the clouds overhead and the city lights in the distance. I wrapped my coat tighter around me and stared up at the arch above me. 

A long time ago, the neon sign had blinked bright pink and yellow over everyone's heads as they strolled into the park. Now, the glass tubes were busted and crude words and figures were spray-painted on the posts, covering nearly every inch. 

Behind me, the car rolled away and I watched over my shoulder until the red glow of the taillights disappeared down the road. I was alone on the edge of the parking lot and I crossed my arms over my chest. If he thought for a single second that I was going to waltz in there all by myself, he was mistaken.

From beneath the docks that the park sat on, I could hear the waves crashing against the beach and it reminded me of the noise machine sitting in Dr. Greenburg’s office. I took a breath in through my nose and let it out before turning back to the sign above me. 

There was only the A and M left on the sign and I frowned up at it, trying to remember the last time I was here. It had been the summer I turned fourteen and I had begged my parents for the freedom to walk around the booths on my own. How strange it was to be here now, under such different, bizarre circumstances.

From inside the park, something loud snapped and I jumped nearly a foot off the ground, spinning toward the sound. It was impossible to see anything but as I stared between the booths and attractions, a light flickered on from deep inside. 

It blinked a few times before finally staying on and I stared down at the glow of it around my feet as music started to play. It faded, crackled and finally sorted itself out and I braced myself for the wave of chills rolling down my spine. Several seconds passed and I waited, listening for the familiar laugh or voice that my body was anticipating. There was nothing but the strange, distorted tune playing creepily inside the park.

I had no idea what I was expected to do, but standing here clearly wasn’t it. With a roll of my eyes, I pulled my jacket tighter around me and headed under the arch leading into the park, though every instinct within me told me to turn back. This was where the stupid girl in the movies got murdered because she wouldn't listen to her gut. And though I was fairly confident Joker wouldn't kill me just yet, there was still that paranoia that maybe I was wrong sitting just beneath the surface of my skin.

The ticket booths and carnival game stands had all been ransacked, covered in spray paint, and vandalized and I had to step over a few planks of wood and old, soggy prizes that were scattered about and exposed to the elements. A popcorn machine had been tipped over, the glass shattered long ago and the wheels bent at odd angles. I stepped around it and crossed my arms over my chest before following the music deeper inside the park.

Whatever speakers it was playing through had seen better days. The music crackled every few seconds, making me jump each time but it reminded me of what would play on a--

I came around a booth with a tarp draped over the front--probably a makeshift tent for an unlucky homeless person--and stopped dead in my tracks. I had found the source of both the lights and the music. A carousel turned slowly on the large platform, the damaged and vandalized animals slowly creaking up and down on their poles.

For a few seconds, I was too stunned to even breathe. It was as if I had frozen in time like the rest of the attractions within the park until the corner of my lips lifted into a half-smile. I let out a scoff and took a step forward, glancing around for any sign that I wasn’t alone.

Slowly, with the motor cranking along with occasional groans of protest, the carousel spun and a figure came around, leaning against a plaster horse that was hanging haphazardly from its pole. My steps came to a halt and my breath held tight in my lungs at the sight of him. He had a hold of one of the poles and used it to lean out of the carousel as he rode it around to face me.

I was shaking my head before his eyes found me and by the time he was directly in front of me, he let go of the pole and stepped off the ride. When he landed on his feet, he spread his arms out wide and grinned, stretching the painted scars on his face.

“Ta-da!”

The tacky, purple suit was back and the jacket hung open to give me a good view of his thin waist. If it was the same suit or a new one, I couldn’t tell but then again, I wasn’t exactly looking at the details. I was too distracted by his grin. My fingers tightened into fists to keep them from twitching and though I tried not to, I couldn’t help letting my gaze skate down the length of his body.

I bit the inside of my lower lip and lifted my eyes back up to meet his. Knowing he was waiting for my reaction, I lifted an eyebrow and nodded toward the carousel. “What is this?”

His sigh was loud enough that I could hear it over the crackling music still playing and he dropped his arms to his side. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him smack his lips and roll his eyes. “You’re a tough crowd to _impress_.”

The corner of my lips lifted in another half-smile and I took a step closer to the carousel, making sure to keep some distance between him and me. I had wanted to be strong, but at the moment, I didn’t exactly trust myself--and I definitely didn't trust him. The further I stayed away from him, the better it would be in the end. 

Glancing at him quickly, I stood in front of the carousel and shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve seen your old stuff. This is a little _tame_ in comparison.”

Another smack of his lips made me turn to stare at him and he cleared his throat. “Well, I apologize for not living up to my _previous performances_ . I’m switching things _up_ this time, sweetheart.”

I tried to listen to what he was saying, but it was hard to concentrate when he took a step toward me. All I could hear was the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. To keep space between us, I took a step away from him and turned my back, glancing over my shoulder. 

“Clearly.” There was no way he couldn’t hear the nervous tone in my voice. “And what exactly is _this_?”

“ _This_ , my dear, is an opportunity. You see,” he said, taking two steps for every one of mine. At this rate, he would reach me in no time and my stomach was fluttering like crazy at the thought. “I plan to take things a bit _slower_ this time around. Gotham wasn’t _quite_ ready for a guy like me. A city like this needs, uh, lots of _foreplay_.”

Maybe I was crazy, maybe I was reading far too much into things, but something told me that he wasn’t just talking about Gotham. The possibility made my face flush hot and I let out a small, shuddering breath that caught in my throat. I swallowed and looked away from him.

_Be strong, Nat. Don’t let him sway you with this kind of talk._

Shaking the hair from my face, I looked up at the lights shining on the ceiling of the carousel. Several bulbs had been shattered or gone out, and the ones remaining looked dim--as if they were seconds away from going dark. 

“Uh-huh,” I said, taking a hand away from my chest to point up at the ride. “And you plan to do this with a carousel?”

I fully expected him to roll his eyes at my sarcasm, to say something cryptic that would make me regret coming here, but he didn’t. Slowly, his lips stretched into a grin and he tilted his head back a bit, never taking his eyes off of mine. 

“Dream a little _bigger_ , Natalie. Say the magic words and I’ll show you the _grand scheme_.”

My eyebrow arched and I found myself laughing--just a quick breath of a chuckle, but it brought a strange look to his eyes. “What? You mean like Abracadabra?”

“ _Louder_ ,” he urged, gesturing for me to hurry with a wave of his hand. 

“Abracadab--” And just like magic, a switch was thrown from somewhere close by, cutting my voice off. Lights blinked on around us bit by bit until every light bulb left working in the park was on. The string lights that had once been strung up in crisscrossing lines overhead flickered and a few of the bulbs left intact came to life. I put my hands to my face and sucked in a breath as the Ferris wheel lit up. “Holy shit.”

I spun around to stare at him and found him watching me, his eyes shadowed from the black paint smeared around them. His expression was impossible to decipher but just around the edges of it, I could tell he was waiting for my reaction. And for some reason, that made my heart skip a beat and the butterflies in my stomach went wild. 

“You know,” I managed to whisper, bringing a hand to my throat. “Someone’s going to see these lights and call the cops.”

Joker licked the corner of his lips and I couldn't help staring at his tongue. The sight of it was like lighting a match inside me. One second I was nervous, a ball of knots in my stomach, and the next, he was tossing a flame on it all, leaving me with nothing but this desire I would never be able to explain. “That’s the _plan_.”

“You want the cops to find you?”

“It’s an _unfortunate_ inevitability,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “So let’s make the most of our time while we can.”

My eyes widened as he took a step toward me and without even thinking, I retreated on my heels. I was still desperate to hang onto the notion that I could be strong and resist him, but I had to keep my distance to do that. I swallowed and found myself licking my dry lips. 

“You know they’re thinking of tearing this place down.”

He took a deep breath and stood up a bit straighter, glancing around at the aged attractions and derelict carnival booths. “Are they now? Well, I’ll just have to _take_ it from _them_.”

Through the haze of desire starting to fog my mind, I narrowed my eyes. The way he said _them_ made me wonder if he knew exactly who was in the process of buying this dump. It was too much of a coincidence. He knew and I didn’t like the thought of him knowing anything about Matt or his father. 

Joker took another step toward me and I backed up on my heel to keep up the game. The back of my boot hit a metal gate that had been tipped over and I couldn’t hold back the squeak that left my lips. He heard it too and it made his eyes narrow. The only evidence to prove he liked it was the slow smile curling his lips.

I had to change the subject--had to get his and my mind off of anything to do with Matt. Not just because it made me uncomfortable, but because I truly didn’t want to know how he planned to take this place from anyone. For now, ignorance was bliss.

Biting my lip, I turned toward the carousel. The only way to get away from him was to hop onto the platform and ride it around to the front once more. 

“I had my first kiss on this carousel,” I murmured, not sure what made me admit that to him. The memory was something I hadn’t cared to think about in years and god knows _he_ didn’t really care. Shaking my head, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and found him moving closer. 

“That right?” His voice was low and I could feel the warmth of his breath across the shell of my ear, making it hard to breathe. 

I closed my eyes and forced myself to focus on what I was saying instead of on how easy it would be to turn and face him and be close enough to touch. Tilting my head back, I blinked up at the lights slowly circling above us. “Mmhmm.” I could barely think, but I had so much nervous energy pent up from just being this close to him that the only way to distract myself was to keep talking. “His name was Marcus something--I can’t even remember his last name. I remember that I met him at the ring-toss and we spent the whole day together.”

As I spoke, Joker lifted a hand and brought it to the scarf around my neck. I didn’t-- _couldn’t_ watch as his fingers, hidden beneath a leather glove, pulled at the material until it fell away from my throat. Slowly, it slipped away until the fringe on the end tickled my jaw seconds and fluttered down the front of my body. 

I didn't know how long I could keep this up. Would I keep talking until he had undressed me? I didn't know what else to do. “We ended up on this carousel at the end of the night and he kissed me. It was awful,” I laughed, ducking my head to hide the flush of my face. “All tongue and teeth and at one point he licked my chin. A total let down. I had wanted fireworks and all I got was a wet chin and disappointment.”

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t give me a single second to catch my breath and my entire body trembled as he pinched the zipper right at my throat. It lowered an inch and I knew I couldn’t let him keep going. I was already starting to crumble, my strength fading fast. Before he could unzip my coat the entire way, I reached out and grabbed one of the poles passing by on the carousel. 

I put my boot up onto the platform and hoisted myself up, leaving him behind with my scarf in his hands, flowing in the breeze. Now that I was away from him, slowly spinning on the carousel in the middle of the abandoned amusement park, I sucked in a deep breath of the frigid air. I took a few steps and found a lion figure that had seen better days that was no longer moving up and down on the pole.

Its mouth was open wide, but the teeth had been busted out and its eyes had been painted a multitude of colors, most of them dripping down its facing. I leaned against its side and stared up at the bulbs across ceiling, blinking to try to free myself from this heady fog I always found myself trapped in around him. 

He hadn’t even touched me and I felt ignited. The flames were licking at my insides already, giving no room for sanity. Despite the cold, December air, I was sweating and almost wanted to shed my jacket myself. 

As the carousel made a full circle back around to where I had started, I half expected to see him standing there, waiting for me to return. But he wasn’t. Panic bubbled in my chest and I immediately thought he had left me. I was both relieved and disappointed. 

I pushed away from the lion and grabbed another pole to steady myself as I took a step. Out of the corner of my eye, a shadow pulled my attention and I turned to see him making his way toward me on the platform. There were only a few animals figures between us, and while I was sure they had faced the same mistreatment as the poor lion, I couldn’t see anything but him at that moment. 

My heart hammered against the inside of my chest so hard I felt light-headed and though every rational thought in my head told me to take a step back, to keep myself away from him, I couldn’t. This game we played, cat and mouse, was growing old--especially when I knew what happened when he finally caught me.

Joker’s steps were slow but I still felt as if I had no time to react. I curled my fingers around one of the metal poles and leaned against the animal at my hip, waiting for him to catch up to me. 

When he reached out to close his hand around the pole, inches above my own fingers, I shut my eyes and took in another breath that left my chin quivering. He wasted no time, picking up where he had left off and I heard the zipper of my coat before I felt his touch. 

The cold hit my chest as the material parted and fell away. I didn’t stay cold for long. Despite his gloves, I could feel the heat of his hands as he brushed the back of his fingers along the flesh of my collar bone. It left me trembling and I gripped the pole harder to keep me steady. 

He made a noise in the back of his throat--a mix between a hum and a growl--and it was like throwing gasoline on the flames inside me. I sucked in a breath and opened my eyes, too afraid to look up at him. Not because he scared me but because I was terrified of what I would want if I did.

“I like this color on you, sweetheart.” His voice was a whisper, sending chills falling down my spine and heat pooling deep within me. When I finally opened my eyes I found myself staring at his lips, painted and scarred and so tempting, as he curled his finger beneath the fabric of my dress. His fingers burned a trail down my chest and between my breasts and I knew he could feel how fast I was breathing. 

Without thinking, I put my palm to the center of his chest, right over the line of silver buttons down his vest. “J…” I found myself whispering, the single syllable breathy and pleading as it fell from my lips. “I can’t.”

“Still fighting, still _denying_ . Always _running_ from things, Natalie.” My eyes shut once more and he leaned closer to me. “You’re lucky I like the _chase_.”

If it was possible to come from just a voice, I would have right then and there. The deep growl of his words sank through me, turning my legs weak and making my entire body alive with desire and anticipation. They danced just beneath the surface of my skin like electric currents and every so often, a jolt of heat would settle between my thighs. 

Though I didn’t know how it was possible, he took another step and came even closer to me, pinning me against the animal behind me. My fingers tightened around the material of his vest until my knuckles were white. I didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him closer and all I could do was whisper.

“What are you doing?”

“ _Mm_ ,” he hummed, making me suck in a tiny breath. He brought his palm to my face and I couldn’t help leaning into the heat of his touch. “Giving you those _fireworks_ , sweetheart.”

The tips of his hair brushed against the side of my cheek and though I knew what was coming, there was nothing I could do to prepare myself. His lips, slick with paint but so warm, captured mine so suddenly I gasped. I whimpered against his mouth, mourning the loss of the strength I foolishly thought I could hold onto. Not when it came to him.

I could tell he liked the sound I made and as he wound his arm around my waist, pulling me so close that my chest was pressed into his, I gave in. With his hand on my jaw, he guided my head to the side and fit his lips against mine. I could feel the crooked scar on his bottom lip and I longed to taste it.

Our kiss was intense, built up from the year and several months we had been apart, and it left my entire body weak. If it weren’t for his arm around me, holding me up, I would have been helpless to stand on my own. 

My lips parted and he followed my lead, dipping his tongue against mine, drinking me in with every rise and fall of our breaths. It felt so good, so right, and I hated how much I wanted more. When he let go of the pole to slide his other hand between my coat and my body, I arched my back and pressed closer to him. Too close wasn't enough and I wanted to feel so much more of him. His hand was so warm against my back, blazing a trail of fire up my spine and leaving me dizzy.

There were definitely fireworks. At that moment, the entire city could have exploded and I never would have noticed. All I could think about was how there was too much between us, too many layers in the way of feeling the heat of his skin on mine. I snaked my hand up his chest and around the curve of his neck, tangling my fingers in the hair behind his head.

From deep within the center of the carousel, the motor made a miserable sound and sputtered out. The platform came to a stop, shifting us back into the figure behind me. I gasped and Joker growled against my lips, refusing to break out kiss. He pushed me back and when I could go no further, he pressed his hips into mine. I could feel the buckle of his belt against my stomach and my fingers were begging to dip between us and unbuckle it. 

It disturbed me how easily I sank back into this moment, melting into his arms and leaning against him once more, wanting all of him that I could get. So many times I had told myself I would have done things differently and it turned out to be just another lie I told myself. I wasn't just powerless to stop this. I didn't _want_ to. In the back of my mind, I realized that this was the first _real_ moment between us. 

There was no torment, no knives, no fear. And for some reason, it scared me more than I expected it to. When there was fear and all the chaos, it was easy to blame what I did on adrenaline, on pent up aggression and emotions. But without any of that to blame, I felt vulnerable, exposed, and raw. I was scared of how real this was and how badly I wanted it. The fear had returned but it was different than what I felt for him. I was afraid of myself and how low I'd let myself sink just to taste more of my drug.

Moving my hand back to his chest, I pushed against him and turned my head away until I could duck away from his gaze. The feel of his breath, warm and quick against my forehead, turned me on and I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to stop the desire from spiking. It didn't get rid of it but it was the first second of clarity I had since he had kissed me. 

“I shouldn’t do this,” I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut. It was hard to fight against the need to tilt my head back and kiss him again. 

“Why?” His voice was deep and rough and fuck, it was hot. He pulled one arm out from around my waist and lifted a hand to my face, taking hold of my chin to force me to look at him. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes and searched his dark gaze, finding that exhiliarating desire and heat within it that only fueled mine more. “It’s what you _want_. You wanted it the last time you wore this dress.”

I had wanted it. I had wanted it so bad that night he had surprised me at the opera, but knowing he hadn’t been fooled by my lies, by my attempts to keep him away from me made me scowl up at him. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

The stretch of his smile on his lips told me whatever he was about to say would infuriate me. He let go of my chin but didn’t release his hold on the rest of me. I felt his fist tighten around the velvet material at the small of my back. “Only when it comes to _you_ , Natalie. You may think you’re closed off, _hiding_ yourself away, but not to me--” he smacked his lips and laughed softly. “--No, to _me_ , you’re an _open_ book.”

I knew as much, but it was still maddening to hear him admit it. To everyone else, my lies were the truth. To him, they were nothing. I scowled and shook my head, pushing away from him. When he let me go, I was almost offended but I couldn't prove him right and show him that. I closed my jacket back around my body and spun toward the edge of the platform. 

“I want to go home.”

Behind me, Joker laughed. “Running away _so soon_?”

I jumped off the carousel and as soon as my feet touched down, I spun back around to face him. My eyes burned in the corners and I cursed myself for being an angry crier. “Why do you have to ruin everything?”

He followed me, stepping off the platform and landing beside me with a sigh. “Why do you lie to yourself so often?” I glared at him and he grinned, stepping toward me. “Don’t give me that _look_ . You should know by now what it _does_ to me. But for now, let’s _talk_ business, shall _we_?”

I blinked but had no time to ask him what he meant. Joker closed the distance between us and snatched my elbow, turning me in the opposite direction. He steered me toward a long stretch of a building behind the carousel. I opened my mouth to tell him to let me go, but my words died when I caught sight of the entrance of the funhouse we were heading toward.

A giant face, with crazed, yellow eyes and a gaping mouth open wide to act as the entrance, momentarily distracted me and I stared up at the monstrosity. I blinked a few times to pull myself out of the daze of surprise and scowled up at the man beside me. The red paint across his mouth was smeared and I knew my face had the same streak of paint.

“What do you mean _business_?” I wiped my coat sleeve across my lips and jerked my other arm out of his grip. He was quick to catch me again. 

“I plan to make a _purchase_ soon, but you see, there’s a _little_ problem.”

“What problem?” He tugged my arm, making me stumble behind him and we rounded the creepy funhouse. Between it and a few booths that had been stripped and gutted years ago, the lights couldn’t quite reach. The shadows surrounding us were almost as creepy as the giant face and I could hear footsteps thumping along around us.

“Let’s just say, they might recognize my _face_ .” His voice switched tones, going from dark and deep to almost teasing in a split second and I frowned in confusion. “Which is where _you_ come in.”

“Me?”

“Yes, sweetheart. _You_ .” Behind us, a sharp sound of metal on metal echoed and the lights of the Ferris wheel blinked off. In the distance, a familiar wail pierced the night and I gasped. Police sirens. “ _Someone_ has to be the face of my organization if I want to take things _slow_ this time around. I can’t be the one to make all the appearances.”

As he spoke, he spun me around to face him once again and I shook my head, unable to comprehend what he was saying. Everything was always so cryptic, so confusing. I tried to look away, but he didn’t let me, catching my chin in his hand, forcing me to stare up at him. 

“I’ll give you a few days to _think_ it over. But don’t forget, you _owe_ me, Natalie.”

The sirens were getting closer and I didn’t know what to panic over more; the looming threat of being caught, or what he was saying to me. And annoyingly, the desire to continue what we had started on the carousel was still there, burning inside me, reminding me of how fucked up I was. 

I opened my mouth to tell him to take his business proposition and shove it, but he didn’t give me a chance. He smacked his lips and smiled. “Oh, and as much as I enjoy putting you in _dangerous_ situations, I need to make sure you’re back home nice and _safe_ tonight.”

“What--”

At my side, the footsteps I'd heard moments ago thumped loudly and another pair of hands took me by the arm. My jacket was shoved aside and I snapped my head over my shoulder just in time to see a guy at my arm. He took hold of my coat and wrenched it and the fabric of my dress down to my elbow before plunging a needle into the muscle. 

I cried out and tried to free my arm from his grasp but it was pointless. The plunger on the syringe was pushed down and for the second time in my life, I was drugged by the same maniac I had been making out with not fifteen minutes earlier. Whatever he had pumped into my body burned as it flowed into my bloodstream. My eyes stung with tears as I turned back to face Joker, breathing fast and hard through my teeth.

He lifted his hand from my elbow to my face, stroking the back of his gloved hand down my cheek. The tip of his thumb caught a tear rolling out of the corner of my eye and I jerked my head away from his touch. 

“You bastard,” I spat, though he didn’t care. The sirens were so close now that I could barely hear the orders he gave the man at my side. With a snap of his fingers, the guy at my side whirled me away from Joker and my feet were sluggish to keep up. 

My head was already hurting, tension pulling tight at the back of my neck and I groaned. The hand gripping me around the arm tugged and I stumbled forward. I wasn’t sure whether it was the drug coursing through me or what, but the sirens wailed louder and louder with each passing second as if they were in my head. 

I reached up to press the heel of my palm against my forehead and the toes of my boots crunched over gravel and asphalt. I managed to peek out from behind my eyelids to see a small gathering of cars parked at the far, back corner of the lot. One was a van and I just _knew_ that was where they were taking me. 

As the back door slid open, the world tipped on its side and my knees gave out. I sank to the ground and just before I could collapse on the busted chunks of concrete, the guy caught me. He, with the help of someone new, lifted me and tossed me into the backseat. 

They shoved my legs to the side and slammed the door shut. Groaning, I tried to sit up and failed, my hand slipping off the edge of the seat. I fell onto my face and squeezed my eyes shut as I pressed my cheek into the cracked leather. Each breath was ragged as I blew it out and my hair fell across my face. I tried to reach up and brush it away but I could only manage to swing my arm enough to sweep my fingers along the grimey floor of the van. 

“She gonna make it?” A voice said, muffled and far away yet all around me at the same time. 

“She’ll be fine by morning. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

I wanted to scream at them, to fight and break free, but there was nothing I could do. I was fading fast, slipping out of consciousness and succumbing to the effects of whatever they had injected me with. In the hazy moments of the last bit of clarity I had, I heard myself sobbing. 

There were no tears, but I couldn’t help but cry. Why did he do this to me? Why did I let him? Just when I thought he was real, when I thought he could actually _like_ me, actually _care_ about me, he ruins it all. 

And I hated myself for walking right into another trap. I never learned from my mistakes. I just kept circling around and around, coming back and letting him do it to me over and over and over...

* * *


	8. Surprise Surprise

* * *

_We're on the borderline  
Dangerously fine and all forgiven_

* * *

For the second time in my life, I pulled myself out of an involuntary, drug-induced sleep. My head was groggy and my thoughts were slow to form. I knew I should have been angry--furious even--but at the moment, all I could think about was how thirsty I was. There was a desert on my tongue and I winced as I buried my head into the pillow beneath me.

It was scratchier than I remembered the pillows on my bed being and the fleeting thought that I might not be in my own apartment raced through my head. Though my head was pounding and I knew the light would hurt like I hell, I peeled my eyes open and blinked at my surroundings.

I was home, thankfully, but not in my bed. Facedown on my couch, one arm twisted beneath me and my dress hanging off of my shoulder, I groaned and shifted on the cushions. My legs felt shaky as I sat up and put my feet down on the floor and I wondered if that had more to do with the drug or that kiss. 

Even though I was furious at him for doing this to me again, I couldn’t deny that I had enjoyed that kiss...and was still feeling the effects of it. I put a hand to my forehead and groaned. There would be no reminiscing until I had some water. 

I was slow to stand but managed to stay upright long enough to make it to the kitchen. With the sink on my right, I knew water was probably the better choice, but I wanted something else. I threw open the fridge door and snatched the carton of orange juice from the top shelf. Both of my hands were shaking as I took hold of the carton and tipped it up at my lips. 

A drop of juice rolled down my chin and I ignored it as I drank in as much as I could. Nothing had ever tasted better than this and by the time I had gulped down half the carton, I pulled it away from my mouth and took a deep breath. 

The fog was starting to lift from my head and I wiped the back of my wrist across my mouth. When I pulled it away, I could see the wetness from the juice I had spilled on myself but also the white and red streaks of face paint. 

Fuck.

I tossed the orange juice back into the fridge, ignoring the sound of it tipping over as I slammed the door shut and raced to the bathroom. The light was far too bright and I winced at the fluorescent glow. I blinked through the sting and stood at the bathroom sink, staring at my reflection.

Dark circles sat heavily beneath my eyes and I was pale, but my lips were splotched with red and streaks of white. I quickly shed the heavy coat from my shoulders and tossed it into the bedroom behind me. It was warm in my apartment and the coat had done its job well. I was sweating through the velvet fabric of my dress.

I needed to take it off as well but I decided to wash my face first. The faucet poured a stream of warm water and I dipped a washcloth beneath it, adding a small drop of soap into the middle. When I brought it up to my face, I paused and stared at myself for a moment.

It felt like so long ago that I had done this exact thing, standing in my old bedroom, staring at my reflection after kissing him for the first time. So much had changed and yet...I felt the exact same as I had at that moment. 

Angry and disgusted with myself for letting it happen, for _wanting_ it to happen, I lifted the washcloth to my face, and again, I hesitated. Staring at the paint on my lips only brought up the memories of how it got there and I closed my eyes to the thought of it. 

He had promised fireworks and he had delivered them so well, I was still in awe hours later. How could someone so frustrating and so irritating kiss like that? It wasn’t fair. 

I couldn’t shake the feeling of it off. It left my legs weak, my stomach fluttering, and my body wound so tight, wanting so much more that I was worried about what I would do the next time we were together. I knew there would be a next time. There was no way he would leave things at that, especially after offering me that little proposition.

Remembering him offering me another one of his strange jobs was like pulling the rug out from under me. I was back to reality, back to the frustration of being drugged and waking up hours later still turned on from his kiss. Rolling my eyes, I brought the cloth to my face and scrubbed at the paint he had left behind until there were no traces of it left. 

I shut the water off, tossed the wet cloth into the hamper beside the sink, and spun on my heel, which was a bad idea. The room kept spinning and I grabbed the doorframe to keep from losing my balance. It took several seconds for the dizziness to subside and I shut my eyes tight. Yet another reason to hate him. 

The list was getting longer and longer every day and yet--

Three sharp knocks at the front door snapped my eyes open and I wracked my brain of anyone who could be stopping by. My first thought was _him_ , but it was the middle of the morning. Surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to traipse about the halls of an apartment building when he was trying to lay low.

Which left Matt or Abby.

God, I hoped it was Abby.

Crossing out of the bathroom and back into the living room, I hurried to the door. I paused long enough to kick my boots off on the way and frowned as whoever it was waiting outside knocked again. 

“Coming!” I called out, wishing the tight ball of knots in my stomach would loosen. 

Like an idiot, I didn’t check the peephole to see who was banging on my door so early in the morning and when I threw it open, my eyes widened at the two men standing there. They looked up at me and the thinner one forced a tight, unfriendly smile. Neither Detective Perez and Kellerman looked to be in any kind of mood today and my hand tightened around the doorknob that I was desperately holding onto. 

A million thoughts raced through my head all at once and I tried to pick just one to focus on while I panicked. All at once, I remembered the police sirens last night, the way Joker had said it was an _unfortunate inevitability_ that they would find him. God, had they?

I wanted to puke. Whatever drug lingered in my system was making the panic worse and the urge to throw up was almost too much to hold back. 

Finally, Detective Perez cleared his throat and clasped his hands in front of him. “Sorry to disturb you on the weekend, Ms. Jacobs. We tried to call but there was no answer.”

That was because I had no idea where my cell phone was. It was possibly in the coat pocket currently lying in a heap on the floor of my bedroom. I had been stupid to not check it. Clearing my throat, I nodded and shook my head. 

“I’m...not feeling very well this morning. I think I’m coming down with something.” At least I warned them if I puked on their shoes. 

The two men shared a quick glance between each other and took a small step back. Apparently, they could see how pale I was and my nausea was written on my face. “We’ll make this quick,” Kellerman said, eyeing me warily.

His partner nodded and met my stare. “Seems that someone got to your friend, Frank Murphy.”

_My friend_. Ugh. I had barely said two words to the guy. Frowning, I finally let go of the doorknob and crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“He was murdered in prison yesterday afternoon.”

Okay, I was almost sure I was going to throw up. Shaking my head, I tried to think of an appropriate reaction. I was shocked but I wasn’t exactly torn up about his death. The guy wasn’t my friend and he had ratted me out to the cops. He didn’t necessarily deserve to die, but I didn’t have to mourn him either. 

“That’s...that’s awful but I’m not exactly sure what that has to do with me.” 

“Well,” Detective Kellerman started, pursing his lips out of annoyance. “The thing is, Ms. Jacobs, no one knew he mentioned your name aside from me, Detective Perez, and _you_.”

I could taste that stupid, pretentious quiche I had scarfed down the night before on the back of my tongue and it tasted awful with the orange juice I had chugged. My stomach rolled and I tightened my arms around myself, squeezing my arms so hard my fingernails dug half-moon shapes into my skin even through the velvet sleeves. 

Taking a deep breath, I stared at the squat little man and narrowed my eyes. “Look,” I said, knowing I had to get them to leave soon. I couldn’t stomach much more of this. “I don't know what to tell you. I didn't kill him. I was at work and then had a date last night. And honestly, do you think I have the kind of connections to have someone murdered in prison?"

The sound of a disbelieving scoff made me glare at Kellerman and I wished I could set someone’s head on fire with just a look. He shook his head and stared at me as if he could see right through me, but I was telling the truth this time. I had nothing to do with anyone being killed in prison. 

And it’s not like Joker included me in on these kinds of things--if this was his doing at all. 

I may have been dumb about a lot of things, but I wasn’t naive enough to think he hadn’t played a part in this Murphy guy’s death. Why else would he want me to keep him on the phone the first time the detectives talked to me? He wanted a name and he got it...and now Frank Murphy was dead.

Before either of the two men could open their mouths and piss me off or make me feel more nauseous, I shook my head at them. "I know you don't believe me but it's true.” My eyes darted to the taller of the two men and I watched Perez take a breath to respond. I didn’t give him a chance. “And...honestly, if you want to talk to me again, it'll have to be with a lawyer. I'm not involved in whatever you think I'm involved with, I don't appreciate you coming to question me and--and try to coerce me into confessing to something I didn't do. So--"

A ding of the elevator down the hall drew my attention and my eyes cut to the left. The doors opened and I watched in slight horror as a familiar figure stepped out of the elevator with a bundle of flowers clutched in his hand. What the fuck was he doing here _now_? 

Matt turned to face us and hesitated at the sight of the two men standing at my door. I had to wrap this up _now_. Shaking the hair from my face, I looked at the two men and took a step back on my heels. 

“I think I answered enough of your questions for one morning.” I made sure to keep my voice down so Matt couldn’t hear what we were saying. But he was coming closer and I was starting to panic again. 

Kellerman and Perez turned to stare at Matt as he drew nearer and the shorter, fat one of the two sighed, knowing they weren’t going to get any more out of me. He was the first to turn away without a thanks, a threat, or a backward glance. It was Perez that addressed me. 

“Thanks for your time, Ms. Jacobs. We’ll be in touch.”

_I’m sure you will_. The next time I got a mysterious knock at my door, I was going to keep my mouth shut and pretend I wasn’t home. I watched as Matt sidestepped the detectives and gave them a polite nod as they passed. Neither of them returned it and as they made their way back to the elevators, I tried to calm my racing pulse.

My breath was fast and I hoped Matt couldn’t see how badly I was shaking at the moment. He looked at me finally and his brows pinched in the center of his forehead. “That seemed a little intense.”

“Yeah,” I managed to say, stepping back so he could come into my apartment. As he passed inside, I glared at the space the two detectives had been standing and shut the door. “Apparently someone in my building’s gone missing.”

And it was the truth. My sanity was nowhere to be found and I knew I had to get this all sorted out before I ended up in prison or six feet under. Behind me, Matt shook his head. “That’s awful.”

“What’s that for?” I asked, quickly changing the subject as I pointed down to the bouquet in his hands. 

The smile on his face was a relief to see and he lifted the wrapped bundle of flowers to hold in front of him. They were mostly daisies, artificially dyed pink, yellow, and bright purple. I took the bouquet from him and lifted them to my nose, taking a deep breath of the sweet scent. When I opened my eyes, he was still smiling down at me and he stepped closer, putting his hands out to take me by the arms. 

“I felt awful for last night.” With a quick clear of his throat, he added. “And so does dad.”

_Yeah, right_. I wanted to roll my eyes but buried my nose back into the center of one of the flowers to hide my irritation at the mention of Cal. “That’s sweet,” I murmured.

“He didn’t mean to upset you, Nat. He can’t even remember what he said, which happens when he drinks too much. It makes him...brash.”

Not the word I would have chosen. It clearly made him an asshole, but I didn’t feel like fighting, especially when Matt came to apologize with flowers. What more could a girl ask for? 

I turned away from him and crossed into the kitchen to find a vase--which I didn’t have. What twenty four year old had a vase in their apartment? Probably more than I wanted to think about. I grabbed the tallest, plastic cup out of my cabinet and filled it halfway with water before dropping the flowers into it. 

From behind me, Matt stepped up and wrapped his arms around my waist, dropping his head onto my shoulder. He kissed the skin that wasn’t covered by my dress and I closed my eyes as the guilt started to seep in. We hadn’t made our relationship exclusive. He was free to see other people, but that didn’t change how awful I felt for letting a sadistic, psycho clown kiss me last night.

Or the fact that a part of me wished it had been _him_ to step off that elevator and not Matt. I squeezed my eyes tight as Matt pulled my hair back and kissed the side of my neck. “I don’t mean to be rude,” he whispered in my ear. “But, why are you wearing that?”

_Shit_.

My eyes snapped open and I let out a laugh, not sure what else to even say. I ducked my head and hoped he mistook the shame on my cheeks as embarrassment. “I...I just wanted to wear it again.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said with a laugh, turning me around to face him. “I’m not complaining.” 

He pulled me to his chest and spread his hands down my back, making me bite my lip. For some reason, I was terrified that I hadn’t washed all of the face paint from my mouth, or that somehow, Matt would be able to smell him on me. I stared at the lapel of his tan coat, unable to bring my eyes up to meet his stare in case he could see the guilt behind them.

The guilt of wanting more than what I had let Joker have the night before. 

At the feel of his hand cupping my backside, gripping my flesh through the dress, I bit my lip and tried not to let my mind wander back to those fantasies of someone else’s hands on me. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, letting Matt kiss a line from my throat to my jaw while I imagined his lips were scarred. 

“You know,” he whispered, his voice not matching the face I had in my head. “I never did get to take this dress off of you. It’d be a shame to let the opportunity go to waste.”

All I could do was nod. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I’d say something stupid. So I let him pull me by the hand toward the bedroom and when he turned to lead the way, I swallowed down a whimper. I wanted to have this moment _without_ Joker being stuck in my head, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t shake the thoughts.

As we made our way into the bedroom, something was buzzing against the floor and I remembered my cell phone stuck in the pocket of my jacket. Matt bent down to pick it up, never letting my hand go, and when he presented it to me with the screen facing up, I felt the color drain from my face.

The number wasn’t saved in my phone but I recognized it instantly. 

My fingers trembled as I took the phone from him and stared down at the numbers. I could answer it, duck away into the bathroom to talk to him, but...why should I? He had _drugged_ me against my will and dumped me in my apartment like yesterday’s garbage. And here I was, unable to stop imagining it was him pressing kisses to my neck, pulling at my dress, and touching my body.

Frowning, I silenced the call and tossed the phone onto the bedside table behind me. “Probably a wrong number.”

Matt nodded and closed the distance between us once more. As he kissed me, I managed to keep my thoughts focused for a grand total of ten seconds before they drifted back to those scarred lips, those dark eyes and hands that both caused pain and unforgettable pleasure. Frustrated with these incessant fantasies and wanting nothing more than to fuck them away, I grabbed Matt’s jacket and shoved it off of him as I kicked the door shut with my foot. 

.

.

“Are you sure you got enough groceries?” Matt asked several hours later on our way back from a quick trip to the corner store. He had been a bit surprised by the lack of food on my shelves and in my fridge and wouldn’t drop it until I promised to go buy some food. 

While he was right, I couldn’t deny that I was a bit irritated from his worrying. I was an adult. I could take care of myself. Thankfully, he didn’t say much about my choices in food even though there weren't many healthy options to choose from at the convenience store.

I watched him look down into the paper bag he insisted on carrying and I shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll last me for a while.”

He opened his mouth and whatever he was on the verge of saying, he must have changed his mind. With a nod, he gave me a smile that I could tell was a bit forced. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

Truthfully, I knew my irritation and frustration were being placed on him when I should have been blaming myself. We’d spent most of the morning and afternoon fooling around, and while it had been a lot of fun and a good distraction, I hadn’t quite been able to _get there_. God knows I tried my hardest. But it seemed the more I tried to come, the more I would think about the man I was struggling not to think about and--

A shoulder slammed into mine, nearly sending me sprawling to the snow and mush on the sidewalk had I not been able to grab onto a light post. I blinked in surprise as Matt whirled around to shout at the guy who had knocked into me. 

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going next time?” He snapped, staring at the guy with a glare narrowing his blue eyes. I shook the hair from my face and turned to stare at the man as well. 

He was tall, dressed in a thick coat that was zipped up to his chin and I felt my eyes widen at the sight of him. The guy’s mouth stretched into a grin and he cut his gaze to me. He was familiar in a way that instantly made me nervous and I swallowed, standing up to straighten my coat. As Matt and I stood there staring at him, the guy lifted a hand and wagged a finger at me as if I were a child that had done something wrong, the grin never fading from his face.

“What a creep,” Matt mumbled, turning to face me. He steered me back in the direction we had been walking but I couldn’t help glancing over my shoulder. The guy was still standing there, still wagging his finger after me and I whirled away from him. 

He was one of Joker’s men.

I don’t know how I knew it, but I just _knew_. I had ignored his call earlier and he had sent someone to find me. 

“You okay?”

Matt’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts and I looked up at him. “Yeah,” I croaked, nodding to keep from freaking out. “He just scared me.”

That was the truth. He had purposefully knocked into me. He knew who I was and where I lived. Why else would someone like that be a block away from my building? I shook the thought of him wagging his finger out of my head and stepped closer to Matt. 

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me in to kiss my forehead. I was thankful when he decided to bring up a previous conversation. It helped get my mind off of creepy guys and the possibility that we were being followed. I refused to look back to check and see if we were and instead looked up at Matt as he talked about hanging out with his friends tonight.

Truth be told, I was kind of glad he’d be occupied. 

Not because I didn’t want to hang out with him, but having him stay so long at my place was a bad idea when who knows who could stop by unannounced. The police with more questions about murdered prisoners or the wanted terrorist who was hell-bent on stalking me. 

I didn’t know which was worse.

“...I haven’t seen them in a few months so it’ll be nice to catch up.” Matt took his arm away from my shoulder as we neared the front door of my apartment building. “But, I could be tempted to make an excuse if you wanted me to stay over tonight.”

“Oh,” I stammered, not sure what to say. I couldn’t be too quick to say no. “I wouldn’t want to take you away from your friends. You said yourself it’s been months since you’ve seen them.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” There was a hint of disappointment in his voice but I ignored it and reached out to take my grocery bags. He set them in my arms and smiled down at me. By now, the disappointment in his voice had reached his eyes and I could feel my strength crumbling. I was already so bad at saying no to people. He took a deep breath and looked out at the street over my head. “Someone should probably be there to make sure Bryce doesn’t get too drunk, anyway.”

“Exactly,” I said with a smile. “He’s lucky to have a good friend like you there for him.”

It was a cheap shot but I knew if I buttered him up a bit, it would be easier to get rid of him. Which only made me feel worse. I shouldn’t want to get rid of him, should I? Of course, it was for his safety. 

And to keep him in the dark about why those two bastard detectives were at my door earlier this morning. I couldn’t risk them coming back when he was there. I just hoped they bought my bullshit about contacting a lawyer before speaking to me again. I wasn’t even sure that it would work. That’s just what they said on TV.

Matt reached out and cupped my face with his hands, tilting my head up to kiss me on the mouth. He raised his head and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead before taking a step back. “Sure you don’t need help taking those up?”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” I said with a playful smirk. “I’m a big girl.”

“Fine, fine. A guy can take a hint.” Matt leaned down once more to give me a kiss goodbye and I stayed in front of the doors for just a moment, watching him walk away. As he reached the corner and lifted an arm to hail a cab, I glanced over my shoulder and half expected to see that same guy from before.

There was no one suspicious or creepy waiting in the shadows and I hurried inside to find the warmth of the lobby. The trip up to my apartment, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was either following me or waiting for me inside. It almost made me want to dump my groceries in the trash and run to Abby’s apartment for the night. 

But whoever was making me feel this way wouldn’t stop just because I went somewhere else. He’d follow me, find me, and drag me out.

_As if you didn’t want to go with him…_

I ignored that annoying little voice in the back of my head and unlocked the door to my apartment. Things were quiet inside and looked just as they had when we had left an hour earlier. Maybe I was just being paranoid. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. 

Sighing, I flipped the lights on and put the food away in the cabinet and fridge. I made sure the front door was locked at both the knob and deadbolt and felt relatively safer now that I’d spent several minutes inside with no one popping out to attack me. 

I reached up and rubbed at my temples before crossing into the bathroom. A long, hot shower would be exactly what I needed to get my head off of this feeling. Unfortunately, what my thoughts drifted to was the frustration of spending several hours earlier that day working with no reward. And god, I knew Matt felt as if it were his fault. 

But it wasn’t. He had been doing everything right.

It was me and my fucked up head that couldn’t stop thinking about that insufferable, smug bastard. And each time his face popped into my head, I could see that knowing smirk, like he _knew_ I couldn’t stop thinking of him. 

I frowned as I lathered the shampoo into my hair and opened the shower curtain, swearing that I had heard something in the apartment. It could have been the neighbors shutting their door. Whatever it was was too faint to tell for sure and I quickly rinsed my hair. 

After soaping and conditioning, I shut the water off and snatched the towel I had laid out on the sink. I wrapped the fluffy, yellow terry cloth around my chest and stepped out onto the rug. I wrung out my hair and waited in the bathroom, listening for the sound of anyone rummaging through my fridge or whatever he’d be doing.

All was quiet.

Which should have been reassuring but for some reason, it just left me feeling unsettled and nervous. Taking a deep breath, I ran a comb through my hair as quickly as I could and opened the bathroom door. 

The bedroom was quiet beyond me, just like I left it...but there was something waiting for me on my bed.

My heart jumped into my throat as my stomach hit the floor and I gripped the doorknob tightly to steady myself. A long, white rectangular box sat on my bed with a rich, purple ribbon tied around it in a bow--his signature bow. 

Another one to add to my collection. 

My eyes narrowed into a glare and I lifted my hand to the towel around my chest, gripping where I had tucked it to keep it secured. Either that bastard was here now, or he had some stranger drop this off for me. The thought of someone I didn’t know--possibly that creep on the street earlier--being in my house made me feel sick.

Who did he think he was just coming and going and letting anyone else do the same? Did he have a key to my apartment somehow?

“I swear to god,” I said through clenched teeth, loud enough that if anyone was still in the apartment, they could hear me. “I’m two seconds away from calling the police or stabbing whoever is in my house.”

Not that I had anything to stab them with...but I hoped they didn’t know that.

Quietly, from the living room, a soft chuckling laugh made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and I slowly turned to face my bedroom door. Sure enough, a second later, Joker’s familiar form moved into the doorway. He leaned a shoulder against it and popped a piece of the popcorn I had just purchased earlier into his mouth.

  
He spoke as he chewed. “ _Mm_ , Natalie. You always know _just_ what to wear to _turn_ me on.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe I'm only a little sorry about this cliffhanger.


	9. Violent Delights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this chapter is definitely explicit. Just a head's up.

* * *

_These violent delights have violent ends  
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,   
Which as they kiss consume. _

* * *

I stared at him and blinked slowly, just to make sure he was actually here. When I opened my eyes to see him still there, swallowing the bite of popcorn he had chewed up, I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth hurt. “Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

Ignoring my demand, he dusted his hands off on his coat and stepped further into my room. His presence made the walls feel closer and I stepped away from him. It didn’t help. It was still just as intimidating to have him in the same room even with a bit more distance between us. He pointed to the box sitting on my bed. 

“Not until you open your _gift_.”

“Spare me the time and just tell me what it is.” 

“And ruin the surprise? _No_. Open _it_.” He spoke slowly, commanding me and I knew I would oblige no matter how much I tried to protest. 

But there was something I needed to know before I did what he asked of me. "Did you kill Frank Murphy?"

"Who?" He blinked slowly, but I knew he was well aware of who I was talking about. 

"You _know_ who. The guy who talked to the cops. They came here today and said he was killed in prison yesterday."

Joker turned his face toward me and winked. It was frustrating how such a simple gesture gave me so many butterflies in my stomach. "I'm _flattered_ you think I'm capable of that, sweetheart. But that’s a conversation for a _different_ day."

He pointed back to the box on the bed with a sense of impatience. It was clear that I wasn't going to get much more of an answer than that. Rolling my eyes, I stepped to the bed and reached one hand--not daring to take the other away from the towel--to the purple bow. Carefully, mostly because I had no idea what would pop out once it was open, I pulled at the ribbon and once it slipped away, I pried the lid off. 

Inside was a strip of bright green tissue paper. I looked up at him with a sigh and pursed my lips. “You really know how to stick with a theme, don’t you?”

He rolled his eyes and circled his hand in a ‘hurry up’ gesture. I snatched the tissue paper out of the box and tossed it onto the bed. Inside was a small, fishnet pouch and within, I could see strips of blonde hair. I frowned. He was giving me a wig?

I hooked my finger around the fishnet to pull it out and stared at it in confusion as it hung between us, my eyebrow slowly arching. Immediately, images of that blonde on the front cover of that tabloid sprang into my head and jealousy spiked suddenly inside me. What the fuck was this? 

My eyes shifted up to his, finding him watching me. “Is this some kind of weird role-playing fetish? Because I’m not going to do that.”

Joker sighed with another roll of his eyes and stepped closer to the bed. By now, we were less than a foot apart and I felt my entire body tense up at the nearness of him. Whether he felt the same, I wasn’t sure. More than likely, he was more annoyed by me taking my sweet time than whatever I was feeling.

Fear? Desire? What was the difference when it came to him?

With a quiet growl, he snatched the wig from my hand and tossed it onto the bed. “Not everything is about _sex_ , sweetheart.” He snapped his fingers, making me blink up at him in surprise. “Keep your mind out of the _gutter_ for a few minutes, would ya?”

He swatted the next layer of tissue paper aside and somehow, I managed to let my gaze fall from his face back to the box in front of us. My eyebrows nearly lifted to my hairline at what was revealed beneath the paper. Laying folded neatly was a dress--or what I was assuming was a dress. Its color was almost a perfect match to the green of the velvet gown he had admired and made me wear the night before. 

This dress wasn’t near as fancy as the other one and I couldn’t help reaching inside the box to lift the fabric out. It was expertly made and definitely expensive. It felt like cashmere with a lining of silk on the inside and I ran a finger across the scooping neckline. My lips parted, though I wasn’t even sure what to say. It felt weird to thank him without knowing why he had given me this. 

Nothing was straightforward to him. Still holding the fabric in both hands, no longer feeling the threat of having the towel ripped away from me, and I tilted my head back to stare up at him. The look on his face was strange and I narrowed my eyes, trying to decipher it.

He flashed a tight smile that barely made his scars twitch and I could almost detect a hint that he was uncomfortable. It was the first time I had seen a real, human emotion in his face and though it was barely there at all, he was quick to hide it behind his usual look of irritated boredom. I was surprised that I had even been able to notice a shift in his demeanor and I’m sure he read it clearly on my face since I couldn’t stop staring at him. 

“What is this?” I found myself asking quietly. Surely he didn’t buy me something out of the kindness of his heart. I wasn’t even sure he had a heart.

“ _This_ ,” he said quietly, “Is for you.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t have you wearing _your_ clothes for this job. No offense,” he cleared his throat and glanced around at my bedroom, eyes settling on my open closet where my clothes were hanging. “But you’re _nice_ isn’t the kind of _nice_ I’m going for.”

I sighed and dropped the dress back into the box, my shoulders dropping in defeat though I wasn’t even sure why. Of course, this was something to do with his devious little plans that I somehow got sucked back into. Had I actually expected him to buy me gifts? Just because those detectives thought I was his girlfriend didn’t mean that I was. A girlfriend wasn’t stalked and followed and terrorized. “I never said I was going to do this job for you, you know?”

“Ah, but you _owe_ me, so _unless_ you thought of another way to _repay_ me…” He trailed off, reaching out to trace the top of the towel secured around my chest. When I jerked away from him, his eyes met mine and he grinned. “That’s what I _thought_.”

“I’m not wearing a wig.”

Joker straightened, though not by much, and assessed my hair with a small smile. “Blonde could be a good _look_ for you, sweetheart.”

Again, all I could see was that stupid blonde woman on that magazine I was regretting ever spending 75 cents on and I frowned. It was getting harder and harder to convince myself that I was the only girl he was seeing. Why did that sting so badly?

As he reached up to curl a finger around a strand of my wet hair, I slapped his hand away. He let it fall to his side with a laugh that infuriated me. “If it makes you _feel_ better, you won’t have to do _much_.”

“Just break the law, right?”

“Oh, you’re such a _stickler_ for the rules, aren’t you?” He moved closer to me, his hands clenching in front of him to emphasize what he was saying. “Too good to _lower_ yourself to a criminal degree, _hmm?_ All you have to do is _talk_ , Natalie. You can do that, can’t you?”

I glared up at him and pursed my lips tightly. I didn’t believe a single word he said. There was always a catch when it came to him, something that would further incriminate me and get me locked up for life if I were ever caught. I wanted to tell him to shove his offer, that I wasn’t going to do anything for him whether I owed him money or not. My lips parted and the words were on the tip of my tongue but for some reason, I swallowed them back down.

The longer we stood here arguing, the more apparent it was that there was only a single towel separating my completely naked body from him. And our arguments rarely stayed civil. It wouldn’t take much to get me naked and that was the absolute last thing I wanted to be around him. Not when I was still reeling from our last kiss. Taking a deep breath, I stepped back on my heel and gestured to the door before I could think too long about what his mouth felt like against mine. I was already hot enough as it was just being near him. 

“Do you mind giving me a minute to get dressed? We’ll discuss this when I'm fully clothed.”

Joker smacked his lips, bringing my attention to his tongue and I quickly looked away. It was no use. I had seen it and instantly remembered how warm it felt against my own. I let out a shaking breath as he stepped closer and stared down at me. I could feel the heat radiating off his body and mine shivered in response to it.

“Mmm, what’s the _point_?” He whispered, reaching once more for the line of the towel around my chest. The tip of his finger curled around the cloth, dipping into the cleavage of my breasts. I could feel the warm leather of his glove and I nearly whimpered at the touch. “You’ll just be _begging_ for me to undress you before long.”

“You wish,” I said. The sound of my whispered voice wasn’t very convincing and he smirked down at me, just as he had been in my head all afternoon. “Please let me get dressed in some actual clothes.”

“Fine. Only because it’s more fun to _cut them_ off of you.”

He spun on his heel, the ends of his jacket brushing my bare knees and I clamped my teeth down around my bottom lip. When he shut the door behind him, I sank down onto the corner of the bed and focused on just breathing. It was no use. He was everywhere and with one deep inhale through my nose, his scent assaulted my senses and sank into the primal corners of my mind. Arousal flared hot and thick within me, settling into my lower belly and I pressed my palms into my eyes until I saw spots.

There was no way around it. With him this close, even separated by the rooms, I could still feel his effect on me. No matter how frustrated and pissed I was at him for breaking and entering my apartment, I couldn’t stop wanting him. Which only frustrated and turned me on more. Rolling my eyes, I decided to just give up on trying to calm down and get dressed.

I ignored the box beside me and the wig laying next to it and stood on trembling, weak legs. Somehow, I was able to cross to my dresser and I quickly grabbed a pair of panties, an oversized shirt, and a pair of shorts. I had never dressed faster than I did then. It had to be a record.

Running my fingers through my hair once more, I quickly braided it to keep it out of my face and took another deep, calming breath that brought in the scent of him all over again and did nothing at all to calm me down. If anything, it worked me up more and I glared at the spot he had stood beside my bed for a brief moment. 

I opened the door and found him standing at my kitchen table with his back to me as I walked out of the bedroom. His head was ducked and I could tell he was looking at something in front of him. 

More of my popcorn? He had some nerve to come into my house and eat my food that I...

All thoughts in my head faded into nothing as I came around to his left side and finally saw what he was looking at. My eyes went wide as my stomach dropped to the floor at my feet. The sight of the box of secret things that I kept under my bed, open with the photographs, notes, and that annoying tabloid scattered out, made my jaw drop. I was speechless, shocked, and instantly furious.

“How _dare_ you!” I screamed, shoving my hands into his shoulder. He barely flinched but dropped the photograph of Matt and me back onto the table with a mocking chuckle. The edges of my vision grew blurry with humiliation and rage and I trembled as I tried to scoop the items back into the box. A few photos slipped off the table and fell to the floor and for the moment, I ignored them. “These are my private things! You have no right to look through them!”

“I’ve seen them _before_ , sweetheart. Well, except for _this_ ,” he said, pinching the corner of the tabloid magazine between his finger and his thumb before I could snatch it up. He lifted it from the table and dangled it for a moment before he opened the pages. I watched through the blur of my humiliated tears as he swiped his thumb over his tongue and cycled through the magazine. “ _This_ is new but _quite_ interesting, don’t ya _think_?”

In a blind rage, I swatted at the magazine but he was quick to pull away. He held the pages to his chest and laughed, lifting a hand to wag a finger at me, mocking me with his black, narrowed eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re _jealous,_ Natalie.”

“Give it back!” I refused to even acknowledge what he had said, refused to admit that maybe I _was_ jealous. I stepped around the chair and reached once more for the tabloid. This time, I was able to snatch it from him and the sound of his shrill, mocking laughter infuriated me. All the frustration, the shame, and guilt reached their boiling point within me. 

I lashed out, wanting nothing more than to hear the satisfying slap of my hand against his jaw. I never got the chance. 

Joker caught my wrist and gripped it tight enough to make me cry out as he whirled me around with ease, my heels dragging across the floor. The room flashed around us quickly and I shut my eyes tight. A second later, my back slammed into the wall and he pinned my wrist next to my head. The magazine fell to the floor and he seized my other hand, gripping it between us before I could try to fight back. 

The feel of his breath, warm and quick at my temple sucked the air from my lungs. I didn’t dare open my eyes. The fury I had been feeling moments ago was fading fast and left nothing but terror behind. I had almost forgotten who I was dealing with. 

Pain pulsed from the wrist he held tightly between our chests and I sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. Between my legs, I could feel his knee, and with a step closer to me, he pressed his thigh into my center. Again, I gasped and the sudden pressure between my thighs made my eyes snap open to his face. 

He growled, a deep sound that vibrated his chest, and pulled my arm away from the wall just enough that he could slam it back into it. The pain was sharp but fleeting. Joker dipped his head toward me, the strands of his badly dyed hair brushing both sides of my face. 

“I’m trying to take things _slow_ this time,” he whispered, the sound of his voice both terrifying and arousing. It parted my lips and my breath trembled as I tried to breathe in. “And all you want to do is get _violent_. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re _trying_ to turn me on. Is that what you’re trying to do, _Natalie_.”

_Fuck_. 

That blurring line between fear and desire was eclipsing any strength I thought I could hold onto and I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew he wouldn’t wait long for an answer so I shook my head, knowing there was no way I’d be able to find my voice. 

He hummed and again, he pushed his thigh into my center. Against my will, I let my head fall back against the wall and a tiny moan of pleasure slipped out. Joker leaned over me and I could feel how close his lips were, brushing mine with the faintest touch. “Mm, _too late_.”

“Let me go,” I said with a trembling voice. 

“Why? We _both_ know you don’t want me to.”

How could someone make me so frustrated, so angry, and turn me on like this at the same time? Both emotions were warring within me, fighting to dominate my reaction and the longer I stayed quiet, letting him do this to me, the harder it would be to resist. I struggled against his grip but he didn’t let me get far. 

“Let me go.” This time, there was a bit more conviction in my tone but it only made him grin. “You can’t just violate my privacy like this and expect me to fuck you.”

“ _Yes_ ,” he whispered. “I can. Don’t tell me you don’t _want_ it as much as I do.”

I grew still and stared up at him as his words echoed in my head. Was that an admission? Did he truly want me as much as I wanted him or was this some sort of trick? I mean, any normal person would think that he did, but he was anything but normal. There was no telling what he truly wanted or thought but whether or not he meant to admit it, I wasn’t sure. 

What he had said was unexpected and my reaction to hearing it was as well. I twisted my hips and managed to shove his knee out from between my legs. To my shock, he let go of my hands and took a step away so quickly, I nearly stumbled forward. I caught myself on the wall and stared at him, my chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

Shoulders hunched, head tilted down so he was nearly staring at me through his lashes, he was more menacing at that moment than I’d ever seen him. It was the first time in over a year that I truly feared he might kill me. 

“When will you _stop_ denying this, Natalie? How long are you going to _pretend_?”

I rubbed at my wrists and hoped they wouldn’t be bruised, staring up at him warily. There were no weapons near me, nothing I could use to defend myself if I needed to. There was nothing short of a shotgun that could stop him if he wanted to kill me, though. “I’m not pretending anything.”

“Don’t lie to yourself. You’re not like them, getting all _dolled_ up to sit in a box high above the commoners. That's not you and you _know_ it. You’re always _hiding_ from yourself, sweetheart.” He pulled something out of the pocket of his jacket and I wasn’t surprised to see that familiar, black switchblade. As soon as the tip snapped free, I raised my eyes to meet his. “Doesn’t it get _old_?”

“I’m not lying to myself. I’m being _normal_! It’s what normal people do! They don’t stalk or torment people or blow things up.” 

The roll of his eyes was maddening. He wagged the blade at me. “You and your _labels_. You’re not normal, sweetheart. Stop _trying_ to be.”

“And what should I be instead? Like you? Do what I want, fuck the consequences, fuck whoever gets in my way?”

“Yeah.”

His simple answer pulled a bitter laugh from my throat and I shook my head, folding my arms over my chest. The tension that had spiked between us had finally seemed to level off and I didn’t exactly fear for my life despite the weapon gripped in his hand. But I wasn’t stupid. I knew better than to assume I was out of danger. Rolling my eyes, I threw my hands up in the air. “Well, I’m not going to. So, what now?”

He licked at the corners of his lips and sniffed before taking a step toward me once more. Though I didn’t want to show him how afraid I was, I couldn’t stop myself from taking a step back. “I _suppose_ ,” he started, his voice quiet enough to send shivers down my spine. “We keep doing our _thing_.”

Our thing.

What was our thing? The game we constantly played with one another; me running from him and him chasing me just for us to end up fucking one another before things turn to shit? The thought of doing this forever brought an angry sting to the back of my eyelids. I looked up at the ceiling and scoffed, watching out of the corner of my eye as he drew nearer. 

“You can keep _lying_ to yourself,” he started, making my eyes slide to his face. He was preoccupied with staring down at my chest and the hungry look in his gaze made goosebumps cover my arms. “And _I_ will just keep trying to convince you of the truth. In the _meantime_ , we can have a little _fun_.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled, hating that his words were turning me on. Arousal sat warm and heavy in my lower belly and with each word he spoke, jolts of heat would sink through me, settling between my legs where his thigh had been pressing moments ago. 

Joker lifted a hand and put it on the wall beside my head as he leaned closer to me, his gaze finally rising to meet mine. He searched my eyes for a moment and the dark heat within his stare weakened my knees. I let my hands fall to my side and I knew that the blade he held was dangerously close to my ear, but all I could think about was how badly I wanted to kiss him again. There was such an unmistakable, unrelenting, and almost unbearable heat between us and it seemed the more I tried to push him away, the more I tried to deny that it was there, the stronger it became.

“Hmm.” His gaze fell to my lips briefly before his tongue darted out to lick the corners where his scars started. “ _Make_ me.”

The tension and desire smothering me were ticking like bombs, seconds to the end, and I knew there was no chance to diffuse it now. There was nothing I could do to stop it even if I wanted to. And I didn’t want to.

Though a small part of me knew that it would be a mistake, that somewhere down the road I’d regret it, I spread my palms over the front of his jacket and up to the lapel. I gripped the fabric and pulled him against me, our chests pressing together. His mouth spread into a smile and he brought his other hand up to my jaw, dropping it lower to grip my throat. 

“ _Now_ we’re talking.”

Even if I wasn’t dying to, even if it wasn’t what I wanted most at that moment, I would have kissed him just to shut him up. He let me pull him down to me, our mouths crashing together in a desperate attempt to continue what we had started last night. I sank into him, longing for the heat that only he could provide as he kissed me hungrily.

My hands slid inside his jacket, finding the suspenders and vest and I quickly found the line of buttons down the front. I went through each of them at record speed before dipping my fingers inside. Peeling the layers of his suit just to get closer to the heat within him, I lifted my hand to push the jacket off of his shoulders and he let it fall to the floor behind him. 

The wall fell away from my back and I hadn’t even realized his arms were circling my waist. Our lips were still locked, still clinging to the desire that had been put on pause the previous night. It picked up exactly where we had left off the moment he had walked into my bedroom and by now, it was blinding me to anything else. All I wanted was to finish what we had started. 

I wanted him more than I would have ever admitted out loud. 

He was right, of course. I had been lying to myself, trying to convince my own mind that this wasn’t what I wanted and I didn’t have the strength to pretend anymore.

Wanting nothing more than to finally reach the end of the layers he kept around himself, I tore myself away from his lips with frustration and glared down at his tie. The vest around his shoulders hung open at his waist and I frowned down at the multiple pieces of his suit. “Why do you wear so many clothes?”

“So you can take them _off_ of me.” He offered no help and watched me pull eagerly at the knot at his throat. The silk slipped free easily and I abandoned it once it hung loosely around his neck. In the seconds I stared at his shirt, I noticed that the pattern was different than it once was. Instead of the octagonal pattern, this one had a diamond shape, with stitches of blue and green and thread of black slipped in. I brought my fingers to the silvery buttons in front of his chest and cursed my trembling hands.

Just as the top two came free, Joker switched things up. He took me by the arms, stopping my task of unbuttoning his shirt and I opened my mouth to protest. I had no time to utter a sound. He spun me in a half-circle into the living room and dropped me down onto the couch. 

I bounced once on the cushion and just as I sat up on my elbows to look up at him, he quickly shed the vest and tie, tossing them to the floor. There was no time to care where they ended up. I bit down onto my lower lip and watched him reach down to my shirt. His hands tightened around the fabric and he lifted it off my body seconds before he plunged the knife into it.

With a quick lift of the blade, he sliced my shirt open up to the neck, and there, he ripped it the rest of the way with his hands. I was frozen in place and could only watch, my chest rising and falling with each quick breath, as he put a knee on the couch between my legs. The heavy thud of his switchblade hitting the floor was surprising, but I was relieved.

Trying to explain any cut he would leave on me wasn’t something I wanted to do in the future, though I was sure he wouldn’t let me walk away without something to remember him by.

He lifted his hand to his mouth and bit down on the tip of the leather covering his middle finger. With a growl rumbling his throat, he slipped his hand free and tossed his glove to the floor. The other one came free in the same way and I stared up at him, my eyelids heavy with desire. I reached for him, wanting nothing more than to finish what I had started with his shirt, but he swatted my hand away and gripped my shorts.

They were wrenched down my hips quickly and he pulled my panties along with them. As soon as one leg was free, he abandoned my shorts and leaned over me. With one hand on the back of the couch to steady himself, he brought the other between us and I let my head fall back into the cushion with a sigh.

I gripped the couch beneath me and arched my back off of it. The anticipation of his touch was pure torture and when I finally felt the warmth of his palm against my lower stomach, I couldn’t help letting out a breathy moan. He traced a line from the center of my stomach to my hip and back, teasing me as much as he could.

He dipped his fingers between my thighs and my entire body trembled with want. He was so close to where I wanted him to be yet so far and he was taking his time just to draw the torment out. Tracing my center with his middle finger, he leaned over me and I could feel the warmth of his breath at my throat. 

“Is _this_ what you want, Natalie?” He asked as he dipped his finger between my folds. I nearly came completely off the couch, my hands reaching up to grab him by the shoulders. “Is this what you’ve been _begging_ for?”

My mouth fell open though no sound came out. Cruelly, slowly, he pushed his finger deeper, slipping inside me, and just as I was starting to enjoy the way I stretched around him, he pulled it free. I gasped, eyes opening, and found him bringing his finger to his lips. He sucked it into his mouth and held my gaze as he did it, letting a deep groan rumble through his chest. 

“Fuck,” I found myself whispering. 

Joker pulled his finger out of his mouth, stared down at me, and traced the edge of his lips with his tongue. “You and that _dirty_ mouth. I never did get to show you what I like to do with _mine_.”

To my surprise, he leaned away and I sat back up on my elbows, whimpering at the distance between us. My head was too clouded with my desire to even hear what he had said, but I was suddenly mourning the loss of his body near mine. I didn’t have long to pout though. 

Joker lowered himself onto his knees on the floor in front of the couch and pushed my thighs apart as he slid me closer to the edge of the cushion. I blinked up at the ceiling, my face growing hot while the rest of my body trembled. Every rational thought in my head had ceased to exist and I was running on pure adrenaline and arousal. He stared down at me like he wanted to devour me and every inch of my body was alive and electric as I waited. Nervous energy collected in the tips of my fingers and I raked them through my hair just to occupy them with something. 

As if they had a mind of their own, my hips bucked upward and I caught sight of that smug half-smile curling his lips before I shut my eyes. Joker gripped my thighs and squeezed, digging his fingernails into my flesh. The sharp sting only turned me on more and I was so wet, I was practically dripping. 

My tongue was heavy in my mouth, wanting to beg for him to give me what he promised already, but he got too much satisfaction out of torturing me to give in so soon. He hummed and leaned closer, making my breath hitch in my throat. 

"Tell me something, _sweetheart_ ," he murmured, the warmth of his breath right at my center. "Does he know how to make you _come_ like I do?" 

My eyes snapped open and stared up at the ceiling. A tight knot twisted in my stomach as his words sank into my head. I tried to think of Matt, tried to remember our afternoon together, but all I could see in my head was the smirk on Joker's scarred lips that had been front and center in my mind all day. I pushed my head back into the couch cushion and tightened my fingers through the damp strands of my hair, pulling a few from the braid I had twisted them into. 

"Do you _squirm_ and _beg_ for him? Or do you just do that for _me_?"

I clamped my teeth down over my bottom lip until the bitter taste of blood was on the tip of my tongue. Hadn't I been tortured enough? I didn't deserve this. 

Joker slid his hand higher up my thigh, making me suck in a breath that nearly choked me as he placed his thumb at the center of my pussy. Slowly, with a feather-light touch, he traced my slit up and back down and I shivered. When he spoke, his breath was hot against me and I let out a quiet, tortured whine. "Answer me, Natalie." 

The rough sound of his voice triggered something in my head and I suddenly remembered how to speak, how to please his ego. "N-no. He doesn't. I-I only do it for you."

" _Good_ girl." He leaned forward and slid his tongue against me, repeating the motions he had made with his thumb and I couldn't stop myself from crying out. Just the touch of it, the heat and slick of his tongue dipping into my folds drew a moan from my chest and the edges of my vision blurred. 

Joker pressed my thighs open further until they couldn't stretch anymore and kept his hands gripped around my flesh as he dragged his tongue up and back down, savoring the taste of me. Every dip and stroke of his tongue over me was an exquisite kind of torment. He kept the pressure light to tease me and though I didn't dare open my eyes, I knew he was watching my reaction. 

I draped my foot over his shoulder and tried to nudge him closer, tried to hint that I needed more but he wasn't a man that wanted hints. He wanted me to beg for it. I dragged my palm to my forehead as I whimpered, "please."

He hummed against me, pushing his tongue further into my center to find my clit. The touch of his lips against it made my hips jerk uncontrollably and again, he hummed. The sound vibrated through his lips and tongue and I shuddered at the feeling. 

"Please," I begged again, both hating the sound of my pleas and knowing it was the only way to get what I want. "I need it."

I did. 

I needed it more than I needed air and I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life. 

The more I begged him, the more he gave in and rewarded me and as he swirled his tongue expertly around my clit, drawing out the pleasure with slow strokes, I was panting for breath. I never wanted him to stop even though I was desperate for release. It felt too good to ever want it to stop. 

And with each swirl and lap and hum, he pushed me closer and closer to my breaking point. I could feel it coiling deep within me, a blistering tension that burned me from the inside out. Before I could stop myself, too caught up in the heat of the moment, I dropped my hand from my forehead and combed my fingers through his hair. They caught in the tangles but he seemed to respond to my touch better than I had expected.

Joker leaned into my fingers and repositioned his mouth against me, flattening his tongue over my clit to lap at it. I sucked in a sharp breath and opened my mouth in a silent cry. Fuck. I was going to come.

He didn't let up, didn't slow down, or change anything. My fingers tightened in his hair and I felt his grip do the same on my thighs. The slight pain of his fingernails digging into my skin only heightened the pleasure at my center and it wasn't long before that molten coil within me started to unravel. 

I arched off the couch, hips grinding into his face in the same rhythm he lapped his tongue, and my body twitched and trembled. I stared down the length of my body and watched as he made me come harder than I ever had in my life. It ripped a cry from my throat that faded into whimpering breaths. He drank me in, matching the roll of my hips with his tongue, groaning against my pussy and I fell back into the cushions. 

My orgasm was fading though I tried hard to hold onto the feeling for as long as I could. When the last wave rolled through me, leaving me highly sensitive and heightened, Joker continued to lap at me. My toes curled and I let go of his hair to scramble away from him, sucking in a shuddering breath. It was too much. I couldn't take it anymore and he showed no signs of stopping. 

The only thing I could do was twist away from him and bury my face in my hands, trying to catch my breath as he let me go. I curled into myself and my body shuddered, feeling from the intensity of my orgasm even after it had faded. But he wasn't done yet. 

He snatched me by the ankle and pulled. With barely any time to catch my breath, he slipped his hands beneath my back and moved me to the floor. I landed on the rug that Abby had given me months ago and blinked up at him, still dazed by what he had done. 

The makeup around his mouth was messy, streaked with moisture and I wondered what he had left on me. It was surely a sight but I didn't have the strength to even lift my head to peek down at myself. How had he drained so much of my energy in just one orgasm? 

Joker wrenched his suspenders down his shoulders and his hands reached for the buckle of his belt, pulling it free. I stared at the buttons on his shirt and frowned. I wanted to see him, wanted to feel his body against mine without all of his layers between us. 

I pushed myself off the floor, my knees bent on either side of his legs and I gripped the front of his shirt. With a tug, I brought him down to me and he put his hands out to catch himself. He was smiling before I ever managed to pull one button free. 

"Someone's _eager_." 

"Yes, I am," I answered breathlessly, finally freeing two more buttons. I could see the neckline of the thin, white tank top he wore beneath the button-up shirt. "I just want you to fuck me."

"Oh, that's _exactly_ what I plan to do, sweetheart." He dipped his head toward me and caught my lips. I could taste myself on them with a hint of greasepaint and it surprised me how arousing it was. As he kissed me, and while I continued my work, he lifted one hand from the floor and found my breast. 

His fingers pinched and kneaded the flesh roughly, his fingernails scratching at the sensitive bud of my nipple. I didn't mind how rough he was. I wanted him to bruise me. 

The last button came free and I frantically pulled his shirt out of his pants, shoving it over his shoulders. Before he had even pulled it all the way off, I pawed at his undershirt until he was able to duck beneath it. 

I couldn't keep my hands off of him. My palms spread out over his shoulders, down his chest, and around his ribs to his back. I wanted to look at him, to drink the sight of his body, but he returned his lips to mine and I couldn’t bring myself to break our kiss. All I could do was touch him and savor the warmth of his skin against my fingers. 

He made quick work of his belt and the button of his pants and I dipped a hand between our bodies. His cock pressed hard against his boxers and I moaned into his mouth, slipping my tongue against his. The muscles along his stomach twitched as I dipped my hand between the elastic band and his lower stomach and pulled him free. 

Fuck, I had almost forgotten how thick he was. The tension inside me clenched in anticipation and I shifted my hips further down the floor. He would laugh and say something to mock my eagerness but at that moment, I didn't care. I just wanted him inside me. He could say whatever he wanted right then and I wouldn't give a fuck. 

Joker put a hand down on the floor and pushed my legs open with his other as I guided him toward me. I was drenched and ready and he didn't need much help. As he pushed into me, I let my head fall back onto the floor and cried out. He stretched me around him inch by inch until he was buried as deep as he could be. It was disturbing how _right_ it felt to have inside me.

I pressed my hands into my face and sucked in a sharp breath. He moved before I was adjusted and ready, giving me no time to brace myself. There was no waiting when it came to him. He did things on his own time whether I was ready or not but it felt too god damn good to protest. Pulling back nearly completely just to thrust deep into me once more, Joker dropped onto his elbows and pressed the length of his body over mine. 

I wrapped my legs around his waist and curled an arm around his neck, desperate to be closer to him. Even with him inside me, it wasn’t enough. I was breathless and I didn’t know if I wanted to close my eyes to savor the feel of him, or keep them open to see the look on his face. His eyes were narrowed and focused on me, watching my reactions and when he shifted over me, somehow managing to hit even deeper to make my breath hitch, Joker let his gaze fall to my lips. 

The press of his mouth against mine had me rolling my eyes back into my head and I matched the intensity of his kiss, opening my lips to invite his tongue. He tasted like me still and with a breath through my nose, I could smell myself on his mouth. It was absolutely intoxicating and I felt instantly drunk from it. 

A groan rumbled in his throat and he pulled away from my lips. Before I could protest, he dipped his head down and blazed a trail down my jaw to my neck. Every other touch of his lips, he nipped at my flesh and when he reached the sensitive spot just above my shoulder, he sucked hard enough to hurt. 

I hissed in pain and he answered by doing it again, just a bit further down. I knew it was going to leave a mark. I knew it would be impossible to hide, but the thought of being marked by him again only made me want it more. 

Across his shoulder, I dug my fingernails into his flesh, wanting to leave my own mark behind. Whatever I did to him, he gave it back to me and as he sucked at my collarbone, my fingers raked through the hair at the back of his head, pulling at the tangles in the strands. Joker groaned against me and his hips slammed into mine harder. 

With a hand behind my back, he lifted me up off the floor just a bit and sucked at the soft flesh of my breast. Here, it was easy to leave me bruised and I hissed at the sight of the purple and red marks he was making. 

“Fuck,” I breathed. “Do you have to give me so many?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he growled, turning his attention to my other breast. “How else will you remember that you’re _mine_? Now--”

He sat up suddenly, letting me fall back to the rug and I let out a breath as I stared up at him in surprise. The motion of his hips slowed to a grind and he trailed his fingernails from my throat, between my breasts, and down to my stomach. When they reached the faded, pink scar he had left behind so long ago, his eyes lifted to mine and I watched a slow, arrogant smile stretch his lips. 

“Get on your _knees_ ,” he ordered, pulling out of me before I was ready. The absence of his cock made me cry out in protest but he didn’t let me reach for him. His hand came down on my backside with a sharp sting that echoed around us and I clamped my teeth around my bottom lip. 

Though I wanted to beg him to just keep fucking me, I knew better than to argue. Hesitantly, I shifted onto my stomach and slowly lifted myself onto my hands and knees. His fingers found my hair, pulling the band keeping my braid secured and once it had unraveled, he gripped a handful in his fist. 

I had no time to react to the pain before he was pushing into me once more from behind. In this position, he fit even better inside me, and feeling him hit so much deeper pulled a breath from my lungs. My arms were already trembling and I opened my mouth though no sound came out. 

With one hand gripping my hip and the other tangled around my damp hair, Joker continued the rhythm he had started earlier. Each thrust jarred my bones and pushed my knees into the rough fibers of the rug. I knew I’d have carpet burns on them tomorrow. 

My eyes rolled back into my head once again and I could only whimper and whine in time with each pounding of his cock inside me. Joker let out a hiss that faded into a groan and I delighted in the sound. It brought my lips curling into a smile and he fucked me harder. 

“This is what you’ve been wanting, isn’t that _right_ , sweetheart?” When I didn’t answer right away, he gripped my hair tighter. “I bet you _touched_ yourself every _night_ thinking about this.”

He wasn’t exactly wrong but I didn’t want to admit it out loud. Not that I had to. He already knew the truth. With his hold on my hair, he pulled my head back and looped his other hand around my waist, lifting my upper body off the floor. His chest pressed into my shoulders, so hot that it surprised me, and he brushed my hair to one side, never slowing the pounding of his hips.

“He may _think_ he has you, _Natalie_ ,” Joker whispered against my ear. The words and the rough scratch of his voice paired with the hand he gripped around my throat was enough to send shivers down my spine. But from here, his cock hit at a new angle and I knew I wouldn’t last long if he kept this up. “But I want you to remember that you’re _mine_. Do you hear me?”

His fingers tightened around my throat and I could only nod, one hand lifting to curl around his wrist. I didn’t pull him away, but I wanted to steady myself. 

“S _ay it_ ,” he demanded roughly, slamming into me so hard I could feel it in my bones and the burn of the carpet beneath my knees. 

“I’m yours.” My words were nothing but a breath.

“Again,” he growled. I could feel his breath against my ear coming out in fast, hot puffs and I knew he was getting close as well. The pressure was building inside me, in that familiar, hot coil, that was almost too much to bear. Joker tilted his head and lowered the hand he had around my throat so he could kiss and bite at my neck once more and I reached up to push my fingers into his hair. 

“I’m yours. I’m yours, I’m-- _ah--_ ” my voice was stuck, clenched in my throat as the tension within me reached the boiling point. I clenched around his cock and gripped his wrist tightly, my eyes squeezing shut. I cried out as the heat building within me erupted, leaving me feeling as if I were unraveling at the seams. 

Joker’s thrusts grew frenzied, pounding into me harder and faster and as my orgasm still pulsed through me, he came as well. The deep groan he let out vibrated throughout my body, leaving me a trembling mess. I could feel the twitch of his cock in time with the waves of pleasure still lapping at me. As his hand fell away from my chest, no longer holding me up, I let myself fall forward onto my hands once more. 

Alarms were ringing in my head like they so often did when it came to him, and I knew letting him come inside me wasn’t the right thing to do but it was becoming easier and easier to ignore the sane, rational voices in my head. They no longer brought up the sickening guilt and shame that came from being with him. Despite knowing that tomorrow, I would have to hide my bruises and think of a lie about them, I pushed my hips back into his, grinding against him and loving the way he growled in response.

He gripped my waist, fingers and fingernails digging into my flesh, and he pumped me back and forth over him a few times. The afterglow was growing fuzzy around the edges but I closed my eyes and held onto it as long as I could. When he finally pulled out and sat back on his heels, I lowered myself onto my side and stared down my body at him. He’d already zipped and buttoned his pants and was reaching for his shirt when I got to it first and took it from him.

The dark gaze in his eyes settled on me, narrowed and menacing and I swallowed tightly. He had just made me come twice, harder than I ever had in my life, but I felt just as afraid of him as I always was. Biting my lip, I sat up and hugged my knees to my chest, putting the shirt between them to keep him from taking it back just yet. Not until I had a chance to say what I needed to say.

“I’ll do the job for you. But only on two conditions,” I said quietly, watching as his eyebrows lifted. He put his hands on his knees and stared at me, waiting for me to continue. Taking a deep breath, I cut my eyes away from him and swallowed down my cowardice. “One, you leave Matt alone. Don’t go near him, and don’t tell anyone else to go near him, okay? He doesn’t deserve to get caught up in...whatever this is.”

Joker smacked his lips and I looked at him in time to see him roll his eyes. He leaned forward and grabbed his undershirt draped on one of the couch cushions. When he slipped it over his head, he met my eyes once more and sighed. “And the _second_ condition?”

“You stop stalking me. Stop sending people to prowl around my apartment building and watch me. You don’t…” I trailed off and looked down at my scraped and bruised knees in front of me. Again, the words held tight in my throat, and I was almost afraid to say them. I had denied and lied and pretended for so long that admitting the truth was terrifying. With another breath to steady myself, I looked up at him. “You don’t have to scare me into seeing you.”

Joker scoffed as he pulled his shirt down around his thin waist. In the back of my mind, I noted how good he looked in just a tank top and his pants, sitting there, scowling at me after giving me multiple orgasms. When his eyes lifted to meet mine, the tip of his tongue flicked against the corner of his mouth and I bit my lip. “I _like_ stalking you and I like _scaring_ you.”

“Okay,” I said with a roll of my eyes, tossing his button-up shirt at him. “Then stop sending other people to do it. And if you do want to see me, just make sure I’m alone, okay? We’re obviously not going to stop whatever this is--” I gestured between us as he finished with the last button at his throat. “So, can we please just _try_ to be a little normal?”

“Oh, we’re anything but _normal_ , sweetheart.”

“Trust me, I know.” I rolled my eyes and snatched my underwear off the floor by his knee. I slipped it on and stood to my feet as he did the same. In the kitchen, laying open and facedown on the floor near the table was the tabloid and I narrowed my eyes on it. The second he left, I was going to rip it to pieces and throw it away. “And if you’re fucking other women, keep it to yourself. I don’t want to know.”

He didn’t bother tucking his shirt back into his pants and I dropped my gaze to the wrinkled shirttail hanging around his hips. I almost wanted to reach out and do it for him but crossed my arms over my bare chest to stop myself. Taking a step toward me, Joker laughed. It was a low chuckle, not necessarily mocking but it made my cheeks turn pink anyway. 

“Feeling jealous again, Natalie?” He lifted one hand and curled it around my chin, forcing me to look up at him. I watched him lean his head back as he stared down at me, studying my face with a sweep of his eyes. He sighed, the warmth of his breath across my lips making me close my eyes. “Don't worry. They're not worth the _trouble, sweetheart._ ”

Did that mean _I_ _was_? I shouldn’t care at all. I shouldn’t have _wanted_ to be worth the trouble to him, but I couldn’t deny that his words sent an annoying cluster of butterflies to flutter against my stomach. Shit. This was bad. I could like the things he did to me--who wouldn’t like multiple orgasms--but actually liking _him_? Wanting him to like me too?

No.

I refused. There was a line that I had to draw, one that I would not cross and this was it. I would let him fuck me, but I refused to want more than that.

“Now,” he started, making me blink my eyes open in surprise. “There’s a few _,_ uh, _things_ we need to discuss about your upcoming _job_.”

“Oh.” My thoughts were fuzzy and hard to focus on, especially when those god damn butterflies were still going crazy inside me. I cleared my throat and glanced at the remnants of my shirt laying on the couch cushions. “What am I going to have to do?”

“Like I said earlier, sweetheart.” He let go of my face and dropped his hand to my arms still wrapped around my chest. With a gentle tug on my wrist, he pulled my arms away and hummed in appreciation. His thumb brushed over one of the bruises he had given me and my eyelids fluttered and closed. “All you have to do is _talk_.”

The quiet of his voice coupled with the nearness of him and the caress of his thumb over the tightened bud of my nipple made me sigh. It wasn’t fair how easily he played me. I was nothing but another one of his games and he always played dirty to win. 

Joker circled his other hand around my waist and cupped my backside, pulling me against him. I gasped and felt the line of buttons on his shirt press into the center of my chest. Nodding, I tilted my head back and spread my hands up his chest, over his shoulders, and around to clasp behind his neck. “I can do that.”

  
The corner of his lips lifted into that infamous, unforgettable, and infuriating smirk, and seconds before he kissed me, he paused to murmur praises that made my toes curl. “ _Mmm_ , Good girl.”

* * *


	10. Old Habits

* * *

_Every time I say goodbye_   
_I find a way to justify_   
_Running to your arms  
_ _Old habits die hard_

* * *

“Sorry! I’m totally late!” I dropped into the chair across from Abby in the quaint little bistro we had agreed to meet for lunch. “And I understand if you’ll never forgive me.”

“I’ll consider forgiving you if you buy me one of those enormous brownies after lunch.” Abby turned to point to the counter where various goodies sat behind a curved piece of glass. I could see the brownies she was eyeing and several other delicious treats that I definitely considered for myself. As she turned around and grinned at me, I flashed her a smile with a nod.

“Deal. Have you ordered yet?” I pulled my arms out of my coat and only when it draped over the back of my chair did I regret taking it off. All morning, I had been using the cold, December day as an excuse to keep it on. The collar was perfect at hiding the amount of concealer and powder I had to use to cover the multitude of marks on my throat and now that I was without additional coverage, I felt exposed.

As Abby flipped the magazine closed and nodded, I decided it was probably best if I kept the coat off and hoped that with a quick adjustment of my hair, I could hide any of the marks that weren’t completely covered with makeup. “Yep. I got you a grilled cheese and tomato soup just like you asked.”

“What would I ever do without you?”

Shifting on her chair, she crossed her legs at the knee and eyed me with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Her gaze held onto mine just long enough to make a blush heat the tops of my cheeks before she lowered it to my throat.

Shit.

I _knew_ I should’ve kept the coat on! 

“You’d probably go the next few days layering concealer on your hickeys and fooling no one with it.”

Before I could stop myself, my hand was at my throat and I touched one of the tender spots with my fingertips. God, I knew I was no good at this. Why hadn’t I just worn a turtleneck? Abby laughed at the look of horror twisted on my face and leaned toward me. 

“Tell Matt to go easy on you next time.”

Of course, _that_ got my face brighter than a Christmas tree but not with the innocent embarrassment that she took it for. Shame sank heavily through me, finding its way into the deepest parts of my soul and my appetite disappeared in an instant. 

For the past two days, I had been trying to keep calm about what had happened. It was horrible of me to switch so quickly from one guy to the next--with the next being _Joker_ , of all men--and the guilt of what I had done was lingering just beneath the surface of my skin, ready to swallow me whole. Being at work made it a bit easier to distract me, but there were those little moments of quiet where the shame was the loudest in my head. 

I hadn’t been expecting it to flare up here, and I seriously didn’t want to tear up in front of her. Despite the itch starting to bubble beneath my skin, I cleared my throat and pulled a handful of my hair closer to my neck. “Is it that noticeable?”

“To the untrained eye, no. But I’m an expert at covering hickeys.” Abby winked. “The trick is to go a shade lighter with the concealer and blend it out.”

And the worst part about it was that I wasn’t even sure if this guilt was because of what I had done to Matt and what I had begged Joker to do to me, or if it was because I didn’t feel as bad as I should about it. Because if I was truly ashamed of what I had done, would I still want it? Would I have stood in the bathroom in the early morning hours after he had left my apartment and studied each of the marks he left on me and _liked_ the sight of them?

If I was truly guilty, if I was as ashamed as I should have been, I wouldn’t be able to look at myself at all, right? 

I nodded, swallowing back the knot starting to press against the back of my throat. It was making it hard for me to breathe, let alone speak and I knew I had to get off the topic quickly if I didn’t want her to get suspicious of my silence. “Thanks,” I managed to croak. “What are you reading?”

With a sigh, she flipped the magazine around and opened it up to the article she had been looking at. It wasn’t near as trashy as the Gotham Gossip I still kept hidden underneath my bed, but it was one of the celeb-stalking tabloids that occasionally wrote honest pieces--especially when there was something big happening around the city. As the pages fell open to what she had been reading earlier, the color drained from my face and I had to brace myself against the chair to keep from falling out of it.

A picture took up most of the page and I stared down at the blurry security camera footage of a man wearing a familiar purple suit. The profile of his face was too pixelated to make out clearly, but it wasn’t hard to see the curl of scars across his cheeks, painted red against the white of his face. 

Around the main picture, there were other images taken from the security cameras in several banks though the people in the pictures were obviously not him. Some had groups of two or three men, all wearing clown masks. My eyes darted up to Abby’s and she shook her head. “Can’t even read my gossip without seeing his ugly face.”

The sudden rush of blood to my head was almost dizzying and I stared at her as she pointed down to the page. I could see her lips moving but could hear nothing but the pounding of my heartbeat through my ears. It was alarming how I felt the instant need to defend him, to convince her that he wasn’t ugly and maybe she was being a bit too critical.

The words, fueled by a wave of irrational anger that I couldn’t exactly explain, were burning the back of my tongue and I clenched my jaw, refusing to let them come out. As I sat there, too stunned by my feelings to even attempt to hear what she was saying, Abby looked up at me and tilted her head to the side, spilling her blonde ponytail over her shoulder. 

“...you know?”

“What?”

She scoffed. “I said it’s almost worse not knowing if he’s planning something, or if he’s actually in the city. I mean,” she paused to turn the magazine around and peered down at the security footage plastered on the page. “Does this even look like him? Did they take this picture with a camera powered by a potato or something?”

Slowly, my gaze fell back to the page and I stared at his pixelated image, blown up to fit in the center of the magazine. It did look like him, with the makeup, suit, and scars, but that was the only resemblance. There was something off about the guy. No swagger. No strange posture. Just a man in a costume, pretending to be someone else.

“I don’t think it’s him.” My voice was strained and I hoped she couldn’t tell how much I was struggling just to get the words out. “Not tall enough.”

“Oh, you know how tall he is now?” The magazine slid across the table with a swish of the pages and she closed it. “Don’t tell me you’ve jumped on the clown craze like those other women. Gonna start painting your face?”

I opened my mouth and instantly shut it again, not even sure what I could possibly say to that question. Absently, I pulled my hair over my shoulder and shook my head, wanting to hide the traces of his lips on my throat as if she would be able to tell it wasn’t Matt’s mouth that left the marks behind. 

“No,” I quickly said, hating how long it was taking me to think up rational, coherent responses to what she was saying. Was it as suspicious as I feared it was? “Definitely not. I just...I don’t think he’d come back to the city so quickly.”

Abby dropped the magazine onto her purse sitting beside her chair and sighed. “Well, if he does come back, I wish he’d just do something. All of this waiting around, holding our breaths. I hate not knowing.”

I opened my mouth but never got a chance to say a word. A voice from the counter of the restaurant called out, “order 217.”

“Oh, that’s us.” Before Abby could stand, I was on my feet. I didn’t want to be left behind at the table, even for a second or two because I didn’t think I could resist taking another peek at that magazine. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t stupid enough to get caught on a security camera like that--unless of course, he wanted to be caught. The thought only made my curiosity spike more and I was dying to stare at that picture for a few more minutes, just to be sure.

Balancing our lunch on a tray, I carried it back to the table and set it down before taking a seat in front of her once more. My gaze flickered down to the magazine for a split second before I forced myself to look away. I occupied my attention by taking a bite out of the corner of one of the triangles of grilled cheese and staring down into my soup.

I wasn’t necessarily hungry anymore, but eating was a mindless task. God knows I needed something to take my mind off of the constant thoughts that centered around him. And not just because the more Abby and I talked about him, the higher the chance was that I’d slip up and say something stupid--or give myself away. Mostly, I needed the distraction from him because anytime I allowed myself to think about him for longer than a few seconds, my body responded in the most annoying ways.

Even with my legs crossed, thighs pressing together, just thinking about his lips on my body, his hands bruising the soft flesh of my hips turned me on. It was beyond frustrating and I hated that he did this to me. More than that, I hated that I wanted more.

“Do you and Matt have any plans for Christmas?”

And just like that, the mention of Matt was like a bucket of freezing cold water thrown in my face, extinguishing any traces of the fire Joker had left inside me. I blinked down at my sandwich and shook my head. “We haven’t talked about it.”

“It’s coming up fast. Are you going to get him something?” Abby swallowed and dabbed her lips with her napkin. When it fell away, I could see a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “Aside from letting him suck on your neck.”

This constant roller coaster of emotions was starting to make me nauseous. Just when I was able to calm the bubbles of shame plaguing me, the desire for him rolled back around, and now, I was brought crashing down into the guilt again. I dipped my spoon into the soup and swirled it around for a bit. 

“To be honest, I’m not sure if I should get him anything. I mean, we’ve only been dating for a few weeks and he’s going to be leaving as soon as his business deals are finished. I feel like we might be fizzling out soon.”

It hurt to say the words out loud but I knew it was for the best. Stringing him along would only hurt him in the long run, and I didn’t mean emotionally. Each day that I didn’t break things off with him was only making the chance that he’d get hurt--or worse--grow higher. Joker had _kind_ _of_ promised not to hurt Matt, but could I actually trust him?

Then again, he had never explicitly lied to me. He just kept me in the dark enough with everything that I couldn’t be sure of anything he said to me. Fuck, this was getting too complicated. I already had a hard enough time keeping myself safe and alive.

“Aw, I like Matt.” Abby’s response made me blink myself from my thoughts and I sighed. The smile she offered was sympathetic but I didn’t return it. “I know he really likes you.”

“I know.”

“And I can tell you like him. He’s good for you.”

“What about you and Brad?” I had to get the topic of our conversation _off_ of Matt. It was too much and while she didn’t know why I didn’t want to talk about him, I couldn’t deny that even saying his name was almost unbearable right now. We had only texted the past few days and I assumed he was still having mixed feelings after what had happened on Saturday.

He hadn’t been able to quite get me to orgasm, despite trying his hardest, and I knew he was feeling some mix of masculine inferiority and irritation despite me reassuring him several times. Pair that with me not asking him to stay the night--or asking him to come over Sunday despite him dropping hints--and I could tell he was more distant with his texts. 

Thankfully, the conversation topic during lunch stayed on Abby’s relationship and not whatever I had going on with two completely different men. It was exhausting enough just living with the situation. Talking about it to anyone else was out of the question, no matter how badly I wanted to just come clean and stop having to think up lies. I just wished I had _someone_ to talk to, someone who wouldn’t judge the fuck out of me for wanting the things that were dangerous for me to want.

There wasn’t a single person I could think of that would listen to me without judgment, including my therapist. Doctor-patient confidentiality went out the window when murderous men were involved, I was almost certain. 

By the time my lunch hour was drawing to an end, we finished our meals and left the bistro. Abby offered to walk me back to the office and I let her. The extra company could be a good distraction. I didn’t want to spend the next fifteen minutes alone with nothing but my thoughts since it was hard enough to wrangle them in when I actually was distracted. 

Outside on the street, just at the corner beyond the restaurant, a newspaper stand was set up and I slowed to a stop as we approached it. A man stood beside it, reading through one of the newspapers and I stared down at the various stacks near his feet. Each headline was a variation of the next and the pictures beneath it were either of that familiar smirking mugshot or security footage that resembled the ones in Abby’s magazine. 

She came up to my left and clucked her tongue in disappointment, shaking her head as she tugged her gloves onto her hands. "It's bad enough just knowing he might be out there, but do we really have to see his face all the time?"

“I don’t mind.” My eyes went wide as soon as the words left my mouth. Why the hell would I even say that? I quickly cleared my throat to correct myself. “I mean, it doesn’t even bother me anymore.”

Fucking hell, what was wrong with me? The words had slipped out before I had even thought them. It was like my subconscious was so tired of lying about it that it was forcing little tidbits of the truth out. I had to get a grip.

Abby nudged my shoulder with hers. “Oh? Does that mean therapy is working?”

“Yes, I guess so.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that therapy wouldn’t work if I didn’t at least _try_ to avoid the toxic behaviors that got me in this situation in the first place, or that I was planning to skip my next appointment with Dr. Greenburg. Risking a glance at her out of the corner of my eye, we stepped off the sidewalk and headed toward the office. “Actually, do you mind if I borrow your magazine?”

“My trashy gossip magazine?”

“I just...I need something to read the rest of the day at work. I’ve kind of read through the waiting room magazines twice now.”

“Oh,” she said, glancing down at the folded tabloid sticking out of the top of her purse. There was a pinched look on her face, lips pursed and eyes narrowed as she reached for the magazine which made me regret ever opening my mouth to ask for it. When she shook the stray strands of hair from her face and looked up at me, I knew I should have never asked. “Sure.”

Slowly, she handed it over and I took it from her, clutching it between my elbow and my side and as I flashed her a somewhat hesitant smile in thanks, she peered at me. The pinch of her pale brow above her gaze twisted my stomach in knots.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?” I took a deep breath to brace myself for whatever she was about to say to me because I knew for sure that it was going to be something I wouldn’t be able to handle well. The panic was already starting to bubble up at the center of my chest, making it hard to breathe and the need to just _run_ almost too strong to ignore. Abby slowed to a stop and faced me and I clamped the magazine tight against my side, trying to slow my breathing to a normal speed. 

"I know we were joking back there but...you're not really one of the girls that actually like this guy are you?"

Every rational thought inside my brain--which wasn’t many, I admit--scrambled to form a response and all I could do was scoff and shift from one foot to another and back again. The laugh I let out to buy myself some time was just a bit too high pitched to be normal before the words came tumbling from my mouth. “Please! Do you really think I'd be into someone like that? I just...it's morbid curiosity, that's all. I definitely do not like him or find him attractive like those girls. I mean--okay, I'll admit, that if he _wasn't_ who he was, and if he didn’t--you know--terrorize the city, he'd be _kind of_ cute--"

What the actual _fuck_ was I doing? The words would not stop tumbling out of my mouth like some horrifying verbal vomit that I was powerless to stop. I wanted to reach up and smack myself in the forehead to shut myself up but the damage was already done. Abby’s eyes went wide and she pointed a finger right beneath my chin that I quickly swatted away. 

“I _knew_ it! Nat, he’s a murderer!”

Around us, a few of the people walking by turned to stare at me with confused expressions and I quickly shushed her, waving my hands between us to get her to shut up. “Jesus, Abby, keep your voice down.” I glanced around and took a step closer, dropping my voice so no one else could hear our conversation. “I _know_ he’s a murderer. I said _if_ he _wasn't_ who he was! But he is who he is so I don't think he's cute okay?" 

“You think those scars are attractive?”

I rolled my eyes. Why had I even opened my stupid mouth? I shook my head and turned away from her. “I never said that.”

“You’re not saying otherwise either.” She was quick to catch up to me, bumping her shoulder into mine. This was just too bizarre. I had spent so long, so many months lying and struggling to keep anything about him a secret that to let even this little bit out was...oddly cathartic. I didn’t want to admit it because I was terrified that I would get used to this feeling but I couldn’t ignore the feeling of weight that had been lifted off of my shoulders, even just a small bit. There was just a little more space to breathe now and I sucked in a deep breath of the cool air. Of course, it felt relieving until she said, “is that who gave you all those hickeys?”

My eyes went wide and for just a split second, the edges of my vision grew fuzzy and black. It was just a joke and I knew that. But holy shit, I was about to have a heart attack because of it. The pounding of my heart was too strong, too fast, and it was making it hard to just keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

“That’s…” _Exactly who gave them to me,_ I thought but thankfully kept to myself because as cathartic as the tiniest fraction of the truth may have been, I wasn’t quite ready to admit that. “Not funny.”

“Oh, I’m just kidding. I know you wouldn’t let him that close, even if you do think he’s cute.”

“I should have never said anything.”

Abby tossed her head back and laughed, looping her arm around my elbow to pull me close as she laid her head on my shoulder. Her sudden shift in mood was relieving and I was able to breathe a bit steadier as we walked on. “Probably not. But what kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t tease you just a bit about it?”

“A good one?”

It felt strange laughing with her after an admission like that. Maybe I had been keeping this all locked away, lying through my teeth, suffering through it all for nothing. Maybe Abby was the one person that _would_ listen and try to understand what I was going through. There was no need to blab the whole truth just yet but for the first time in a very long time, I felt hope that I might not have to do this all by myself forever. 

There was hope that even if she doesn’t see what I see in someone like him, she could still listen and help me when I needed it. God, just knowing that was a possibility for the future made me feel a bit lighter as we walked the rest of the way to Gotham Capital. And while my thoughts were still in turmoil about yet another sticky situation I had found myself in, I hugged Abby tightly as we said our goodbyes and I felt better than I had all morning.

There was a bounce in my step as I pushed the office door open and made my way across the waiting area to where my desk was situated in the lobby. So caught up in the sudden hopeful feeling that I was desperately clinging to, I hadn’t realized that I wasn’t alone in the space. The sound of feet shuffling behind me made me whirl around, hand pressing into my chest where my heart was pounding like crazy.

A man was right behind me but as soon as I was able to get a look at him, the sudden panic that had rushed to the surface simmered down. He was familiar, though I had never spoken directly to him before. Cal Hawthorn’s assistant. I had seen him the first time I had ever met Matt and though I had only caught a glimpse of the guy before he hurried behind Cal to the elevators that day, I recognized him fairly quickly. 

He was balding on top but still holding onto the hope that the stretch of brown hair he combed across his scalp hid that fact. I couldn’t fault him for it. I’d probably go to similar lengths if I were going bald as well. As I dropped my purse onto my desk and flashed him a smile, he stepped up to me and adjusted the wire-framed glasses sitting on his nose. 

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t aware you were coming by today,” I said to him, stepping around the desk as he lifted his briefcase and set it down on the counter between us.

“Mr. Hawthorne sent me to pick up the information about the property to give to the surveyors.”

“Oh! Right. I wasn’t expecting you until later this week.” Despite his snippy attitude, I kept my customer service smile and the honeyed tone that was expected of me. 

The guy sighed quickly and pursed his lips into a thin line that spelled out his irritation. His lips were hardly there, to begin with and when he did that, it nearly made them disappear and I found myself staring at the space where his top lip should be. “Well, Mr. Hawthorne is ready to move ahead on the deal and unfortunately, that can’t happen until--” he looked at me from over the top of his glasses. “--certain people cooperate. Could we hurry this along?” 

I stared at him, the corners of my smile fading fast. What a jerk. No wonder Cal hired him. He seemed to fit right in with the Hawthorne attitude of making people feel small. The smile I gave him was just as tight and forced as the one he gave me. “Right. Well, I have to print the files off of my computer so it’ll be just a minute.”

Which was a hint for him to wait patiently in the designated area and not crowd my desk. A hint that he did not pick up on. I hid a sigh of frustration and brought the computer to life all the while he stood right in front of me, hands clutching the sides of his briefcase as if he were waiting for me to snatch it out from under him. 

As he lifted a hand to check the watch around his wrist, he let out a sigh and stared pointedly at my computer. “I’m running late as it is. I thought with you being involved with Matthew that you’d be a bit more attentive to Mr. Hawthorn’s business needs.”

“Well, Mr. Hawthorne isn’t our only client and like I said, I thought you weren’t coming until later in the week.” As if my involvement with Matt meant I had to be a slave to Cal Hawthorne’s business demands. Now I was irritated and it had completely squashed the good mood I had found. I’d managed to hold onto it for all of three minutes and now I was back to feeling annoyed.

At least this frustration was a bit easier to deal with. I had two choices: I could get this guy out of the office as soon as possible or...I could be a bit petty. And since he so rudely interrupted the lift in my mood, I chose the latter choice.

Smiling sweetly, I tilted my head up to him. “I think my printer is out of paper. I’ll have to get some from the supply closet.”

Cal’s assistant heaved a sigh and didn’t even try to hide the roll of his eyes as I stood to my feet. The supply closet was right behind my desk and I took my time making my way into the room. I moved at a snail’s pace, carefully pulling out a stack of papers, adjusting them on the shelf, and deciding to put a small bit of it back before I finally made it back out to the desk.

The guy was tapping quickly at the Blackberry in his palm--complaining about me to Cal, I assumed--and I flashed him another smile as I took a seat at my chair. Moving through the computer files took less time than I hoped it would but before long, the printer was whirring to life and I waited patiently for the files to slide out. 

Above me, the guy slipped his phone back into the pocket of his coat and clicked the clasps of his briefcase. It opened smoothly and he held a hand out for the files. As soon as I handed them over, he snatched them from me and I glared up at him as I narrowly avoided a papercut across three of my fingers. 

“Thank you for making me run behind,” he mumbled. “I’m supposed to be at the property in half an hour for inspections and surveys and if we’re forced to reschedule, I’ll be sure to let Mr. Hawthorn know why.”

With a snap of his briefcase and a quick click of the clasps on either side of the handle, he turned on his heel and briskly walked out the door. As it shut behind him, I frowned. The last thing I needed was to be any more on Cal’s bad side but I couldn’t help thinking that I probably should have warned the guy. 

If he was going to the property, then he might bump into someone else who has been lurking around there as well and that wouldn’t be pretty for him. Watching through the windows as Cal’s assistant sped toward the street, arm lifting in the air as he hailed a cab, I winced and hoped he wouldn’t walk into something he wasn’t prepared for. The guy was a jerk, but he didn’t deserve to cross paths with someone like Joker. 

And speaking of…

I spun in my chair to where I had dropped my purse onto the desk and stared at the ends of the rolled-up magazine sticking out, all thoughts of Cal’s assistant slipping right out of my head. Slowly, I pulled the folded pages out and took my bottom lip between my teeth. For some reason, it felt as if I were being watched, as if someone I knew would pop out of the shadows and figure everything out from me staring at the pictures on the pages. 

The lobby was quiet around me and I knew there were no appointments scheduled for another hour or so. I was left alone with my thoughts and of course, they were on one thing in particular. The pages passed by my thumb until I found the center where big, block letters were stretched across the top. 

_Clown craze strikes Gotham: is the Joker back in town?_

I wondered how many people actually knew the truth to that particular question. Sure, the police suspected it but couldn’t confirm it either way and pictures like the grainy footage from a security camera couldn’t provide the best evidence. But I knew the truth. 

I stared down at the magazine and traced the edge of the photo in the center with my middle finger. Was it really him in the image? The scars looked similar but they could be faked with the right materials. It was almost impossible to tell from just such a blurry, grainy picture but something was certainly _off_ about the figure and after staring for several minutes, I decided that no, it wasn’t him.

It was a look-alike, someone planted there to pull everyone’s attention away from what he could actually be doing. Which only begged the question...What _was_ he doing?

The quick chime of my phone pulled my attention away from the magazine and it was probably for the best. I did have actual work to do and the end of the day would be here before I was ready for it. I closed the magazine and tossed it to the side while I dug through my purse with my freehand until I found the familiar shape. 

Flipping the phone around as I pulled it out, I stared down at the screen and my heart leapt into my throat, pounding against the multitude of bites he had left behind. A single text from an unknown number caught me by surprise and I glanced around me to make sure no one else had snuck up to my desk while I was preoccupied. With a swipe of my thumb, the message opened and I stared down at the simple text.

**Tomorrow** **  
****11 AM** **  
****Be ready**

Tomorrow? Tomorrow was Tuesday! I frantically tapped my thumbs over the keyboard and shook my head. Tomorrow was too soon. I had to work. And not to mention, I definitely wasn’t ready to do whatever job he had planned for me. 

_I have to work tomorrow. I can’t._

Two hours passed and no response came. It was impossible not to stare at the screen, waiting for a text back. Hours passed and I barely got anything done. Nothing distracted me, nothing helped occupy my thoughts other than worrying. I couldn’t stop thinking about what tomorrow could mean. I had never called out of work before but knew I could fake food poisoning if I needed to. Hell, I might not even have to fake it. 

That tomato soup and grilled cheese were already starting to make my stomach roll with anxious nausea. 

For the rest of the day, even after I got home and had no other text messages from an unknown number, I was a nervous wreck. There would be no relaxing for me, no calm until the approaching storm passed. I just wish I knew what I was supposed to be ready for...

* * *

The next morning came too quickly and I didn’t get a wink of sleep. Well, that was a lie. I had managed to pass out around midnight but didn’t stay asleep for very long. I was up before the sun, pacing around the length of my apartment, chewing my nails to shreds, and fighting the need to throw up what little I had eaten the day before.

By nine AM, I was a complete and total wreck.

I stood in my bedroom wearing my bra, panties, and a pair of pantyhose that I hadn’t worn in three years, drenched in sweat and trying to fan myself with that insufferable magazine I had borrowed from Abby. Nothing was helping me cool down and I was seriously debating on sticking my head in the freezer for an hour or so. 

Angrily, I tossed the magazine onto the bed and piled my hair up on top of my head, holding it there while I took several deep breaths and closed my eyes. It was obvious why I was feeling this way and it wasn’t just because I was walking into something completely blind, armed with only an annoying blonde wig and a pretty dress. Mostly, it was because I knew I would be seeing him again. Or well, I _hoped_ I would anyway. 

Hoped in a weird, frightening kind of way.

This was one of the rare times when I could prepare myself for seeing him and knowing what happened the last time we were with one another, knowing I would be powerless against this desire only he seemed to conjure up within me, was making me flustered. Though _flustered_ felt like the understatement of the century. I was panicking, caught somewhere between the realization that I had no other choice and not exactly wanting any other choice.

I wanted to see him. I wanted to be near him again, to feel the things only he could do to me. I needed that high one more time. The promise of my drug of choice was dangling right in front of me and I no longer wanted to even try to resist it. There was no point in resisting anyway. He knew what I craved, what I needed and he was going to tease me and torment me with it until I gave in. 

But what I needed most at that moment was air.

Desperate for relief from this fever, I crossed the bedroom to the window and threw it open, letting in the December air and the sounds of the city. The sheer curtains billowed out from the cold wind that blew into the room and I sank to my knees and closed my eyes as it hit my face. I was flushed from my hairline to my chest and I wondered how long I would have to put up with this torment. 

Laying my head against the windowsill, I let out a breath and cut my gaze to the bed where the magazine was laying open. The pages rustled in the breeze flowing into the room and on the other side of it, the wig and dress were laid out. I had stared at both of them for so long that morning that I almost couldn’t bear to look at them anymore.

I had never worn a wig before, but I had watched a few tutorials online the night before and had even tried it out. I hated that the soft blonde color actually _did_ suit my features and skin tone. Wondering what he would think of me wearing it almost made me sick and I had wrenched it off my head in annoyance and crawled into bed.

Now, hours later, I was still staring at it, still just as frustrated knowing that I would have to put it back on and _play pretend_. For someone who constantly criticized me for pretending to be something I’m not and lying to myself, he didn’t seem to mind when I did it for him. But then again, he knew I would be a _good girl_ and do what he wanted me to.

The memory of his praises made me bury my face into the crook of my elbow still propped on the windowsill and I groaned. Even with the cold air steadily swirling around my half-naked body, the heat was nearly smothering. I groped blindly at the dresser until my hand found the stick of deodorant sitting on the corner. 

If I was going to play pretend and be someone else today, then I had to pull myself together. Jaclyn Napier didn’t sweat this much. She wasn’t a timid, twenty-four-year-old from the suburbs that didn’t know how to properly wear pantyhose like me. Jaclyn had a wealthy husband who bought her dresses and filled her bank account with millions...and made her pay him back with little mystery jobs and sex that made her weak in the knees even days later.

Groaning again, I lifted off the windowsill and pushed away from it. I tossed the deodorant back onto the dresser and stared down at my costume for the day. The emerald fabric, neatly pressed and expertly tailored, was waiting for me to slip it on and become another person. I ran my fingers down the sleeve and clamped my bottom lip between my teeth. 

It helped to think that this wouldn’t be Natalie Jacobs. This would be someone else and all I had to do was pretend to be that person for a little while.

That wasn’t quite as daunting.

The buzz of my cell phone startled me and I whirled around to see it vibrating on the corner of my nightstand. My heart was instantly in my throat and I reached up to put a hand to my chest. Matt’s name was across the top of the screen and while I was relieved it wasn’t an unsaved number calling me, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to pretend to be the person he expected me to be. 

Sighing, I leaned over and grabbed my phone, swiping the call and putting it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Nat, hey,” Matt breathed. I could hear the wind whipping around the speaker of his phone and figured he was outside somewhere. Hopefully not _here_. “You okay? We stopped by Gotham Capital to sign some things and they said you were sick.”

Oh, yeah. I had almost forgotten that I had called my boss last night to report the horrible case of food poisoning I was suffering from. It was best to keep up that charade for Matt as well. “Hey,” I said, in the best weak, pathetic tone I could muster. “I’m alright, just...pretty sick.”

“Damn, I’m sorry. They said it was food poisoning.”

“That’s what I’m guessing. Just can’t stop puking.” At least it wasn’t a total lie. I had been fighting the urge to throw up for the past several hours. “But it could be a virus.”

“Do you need anything? I could bring some--”

“No. Th-that’s sweet of you but I think I just need to rest today. Hopefully, I’ll feel better tomorrow.” I turned back to face the dress and wig laid out in front of me and this time, I brushed my fingers through the silky strands of hair. The quality was easy to see and the brief time I had worn it the night before seemed natural. It made me wonder how much he had paid for it--if he paid for it at all. 

“Me too.” Matt’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “I was hoping we could get together this weekend. There’s a charity event on New Year’s Eve that I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d be interested in. It’s a masquerade theme and I think you’d really enjoy…”

Three, quick beeps at my ear cut through what he was saying and I pulled the phone away to stare at the incoming call. In an instant, my pulse was racing and I stared with wide eyes down at the word _Unknown_ at the top of the screen. Shit!

“Matt, I’m so sorry, I have to go puke.”

“Oh! Damn, okay, I’ll talk to you--”

I quickly ended the call and took my bottom lip between my teeth, biting hard enough that it hurt. By the time I put the phone back up to my ear, a familiar, deep voice greeted me. 

“Good morning, _sweetheart_ .” Three simple words and my entire body was buzzing with delight. The butterflies were going crazy in my stomach and I slowly lowered myself onto the edge of my bed. I didn’t trust myself not to wobble where I stood and whether it was due to the fact that time was ticking steadily toward eleven o’clock or it was because of his voice, I wasn’t sure. “Ready for your, uh, first day _back_ to work?”

“I guess,” I said quietly, still apprehensive about our new arrangement. We hadn’t exactly agreed upon the conditions I set for him the last time he had been in my apartment, but he hadn’t outright denied them either. And while I was still shy about the fact that I had given him permission to see me when he wanted, it was all a bit too much to wrap my head around at the moment. 

It was exciting, and I wasn’t going to change my mind, but it was strange and I didn’t quite know how to act around him now. The urge to put up a fight was still there, just eclipsed by other urges I had when it came to him.

The sigh at my ear made me close my eyes and I squeezed my legs together, bracing myself for what he was going to say. “I need a _little_ bit more confidence from you today, _Natalie_.”

And of course, despite the constant struggle between fighting him and fucking him, there was that irritation at how insufferable he could be. I rolled my eyes at his remark and shook my head. “Fine. Yes, I’m _so_ ready to be back at work for you.”

Whether he heard the sarcasm dripping from my words or not, I wasn’t sure. If he had heard it, he more than likely didn’t care. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“Can I know exactly what you expect me to do?” 

“I _expect_ you to do everything I ask you to _do_.”

Why did he have to be so frustrating? It was maddening and I stood to my feet to cross to my dresser once again. If he was going to keep this up, I was going to need more swipes of my deodorant. Switching my phone to the opposite ear, I cradled it against my shoulder and sighed. “So far, all you’ve asked me to do is get dressed and meet you at eleven. Can I not know anything else beyond that?”

“ _Patience_ , sweetheart. Good things come to good girls who _wait_.”

My hands froze beneath my armpit and I blinked down at the mismatched pieces of my pitiful makeup collection littered across the top of the dresser. I didn’t want to admit that his flirty tone had left me almost speechless and suddenly aroused. Memories of our last night together replayed in my head and I had to quickly shake them away before they could get out of hand. Swallowing down the sudden exhilaration that rushed through me at those two particular words he said, I recapped the deodorant and set it down. 

“You seem to be in a good mood today.”

“Mmm, you have _no_ idea.” And with that, the call ended and I lowered the phone to stare at the screen for several seconds. It was difficult to distinguish between the various emotions running rampant through my body at the moment. 

The anxiety was still there--and would be there for a long time--but in the spaces within me that were left open, there was a battle between frustration, uncertainty, and a strange excitement that I had never felt before. It buzzed in the tips of my fingers and in the joints behind my knees. I felt electric and breathless and dizzy from it all.

Once I was able to pull myself from the daze he had left me in, I set the phone down on the dresser top and drummed my fingers over the edge. There was no use waiting any longer and talking to him, hearing what he needed of me, was apparently what I needed. Turning on my heel, I stepped up to the bed and lifted the dress, staring at the scooping neckline, the slightly flared skirt, and sleeves that would reach just past my elbows. It was made for someone chic, someone used to a lifestyle I have never and would never experience. It wasn’t made for a woman like Natalie Jacobs.

It was made for Jaclyn Napier and all I had to do was put it on and play pretend for the day. A simple task that was anything but. 

After the brief, albeit interesting phone call, the fog of panic and agitation had parted enough that rational thoughts could flow through my head. The anxiety still nipped at the edges of my conscious, enough that the knots in my stomach refused to unravel, but I was able to do basic tasks that I had to do. 

I slipped on the dress and managed to zip it up properly, not allowing myself a moment to stop and wonder just how in the world he knew what size I wore. After the dress, came my makeup and while I wasn’t sure what styles were popular with the wealthy women of the world right now, I decided to keep it light and natural.

Just some mascara, enough blush to dust the apples of my cheeks, and a demure shade of lipstick that looked as if it belonged to my mother. Since I couldn’t remember the last time I actually bought lipstick, it’s not far-fetched to imagine that I had swiped it from her collection several years ago when I left. 

The only task that I was still hesitant about, even after I had fully dressed and time was ticking closer and closer to eleven, was the wig. I didn’t want to be blonde. I didn’t want to see the way he looked at me while wearing it because I was afraid he would prefer it. It was too similar to the woman on the cover of that tabloid, with her face painted up like a harlequin, hair pulled up into pigtails as she took pictures of herself.

For some reason, I was _afraid_ that he wanted that kind of woman. I could pretend to be Jaclyn Napier. I could pretend to be a version of Natalie Jacobs that _didn’t_ want someone like Joker. I was even prepared to be the version of myself that could stop lying about this bizarre attraction. 

What I didn’t want was to be the kind of woman whose pictures would be plastered on the front of something like _Gotham Gossip_. 

The clarity that I had been relieved to have was slowly fading behind the fog of uncertainty once again and I picked the wig up and admired the craftsmanship of it. Whoever made it did so with care and detail and I wondered how they’d feel knowing it would be used for...whatever it was I was doing.

I crossed to the mirror hanging on the wall and made sure that every strand of dark hair was pinned tightly against my scalp. It was braided into two sections and pinned at the back of my head, right above my neck and I had tried to flatten it as much as I could. Frowning at my own reflection, suddenly angry at myself for stumbling into this situation, I lifted the blonde wig and pulled it down over the crown of my head.

With a few well placed bobby pins keeping the lace secured to my actual hair, I combed my fingers through the honey-colored tresses and stared at my reflection. Damn. I hated that I liked the way it looked on me. I hated it so much that I almost ripped it off my head and decided not to go through with this thing altogether.

I knew he wouldn’t let me do that. 

And what had he said to me before? As much as he liked dragging me, kicking and screaming, out of the places I tried to hide, he was trying a different approach this time. I wondered if he meant he was trying this approach with the city or just me.

So far, it seemed as if Gotham and I were getting the same slow, drawn-out, torturous treatment. I didn’t know which one I preferred. 

But if he was doing things differently this time around, then so should I. After a final glance at my reflection in the mirror, almost not even recognizing myself, I slipped my arms through my coat--the only one I owned that at least _appeared_ high end, though I had gotten it from one of the nicer consignment shops in the city. Clutching the same purse that Abby had let me borrow to take to the opera, a simple, leather pouch that could barely hold my wallet and my phone together, I walked out of my apartment.

There wasn’t any traffic in the hallways and I was thankful. The fewer people around to see me right now, the better. I shoved a pair of sunglasses over my face just as I stepped into the elevator. As the doors shut, I felt the purse between my elbow and side vibrate. The buzz sent my heart racing and I flexed my fingers to stop them from shaking before reaching in to retrieve the phone. 

A simple text message appeared on the screen and I clamped my teeth around my lip, cursing at myself for smudging my lipstick. All the message read was: _outside_.

Oh, I was going to be sick. 

Could I call him and give him the same excuse I had given my boss? Sorry, can’t run around the city with you today, committing shady crimes that may or may not land me in prison for a decade due to a bad case of food poisoning. 

The elevator dropped, along with my stomach, and I put a hand to my belly, squeezing my eyes shut tightly as the knots twisted and twisted. I rode through the floors and struggled to breathe. In through my nose, out through my mouth, just like Dr. Greenburg had instructed me when I told her that I was experiencing panic attacks. It didn’t help much then, and it wasn’t helping any now either. 

Once on the ground floor, the elevator shifted and with a soft chime of the bell above the doors, they opened up to the main lobby. I sucked in a breath and stared out at the stretch of brass mailbox plates along the opposite wall. At the edges of my vision, the elevator grew fuzzy and dark and I wrenched the sunglasses off. 

Was I seriously about to pass out?

God, how embarrassing it would be to have to be dragged out of here, my dress all wrinkled and dusty from the floor, blonde wig sitting askew on my scalp. _Pull yourself together, Natalie...or Jaclyn--whoever the fuck you are. You can do this!_

With one more breath dragged in shakily through my nose, I nodded to myself and reached out to stop the doors from shutting in front of me. I eased the sunglasses back onto my face and stepped out into the lobby, turning to face the front doors of the building. As usual, there were cars parked along the street curb, and the closer I got to the doors, the more of them I could see. 

I knew immediately which one was waiting for me.

A black SUV was parked, its windows darkened with two men sitting in the front seat just a few meters down from the entrance to the apartment. The driver was staring up at the building while the man in the passenger seat was busy looking at something in his lap. It reminded me of the last time I was picked up to do a job for him and wondered if, like that time, I would be sitting alone in the backseat. 

Taking another deep breath, I pushed the door open and braced myself for the cold air that was quick to envelop me. It weaved through my legs and my pathetic pantyhose couldn’t block out a bit of the cold. By the time I reached the SUV, confirming it was waiting for me with a nod from the driver, I was shivering. My fingertips trembled as I reached for the handle and with a quick pull, the doors opened. 

In an instant, I was met by that familiar, intoxicating smell of him and I sucked in a breath. Through the tinted lenses of my sunglasses, I stared into the backseat of the car, one hand still gripping the door handle while my other was squeezed around my purse. 

  
“Well, don’t just stand there, _sweetheart_ ,” Joker said, smacking his lips as he took in the sight of me with a quick sweep of his gaze. As he brought it back up to meet my eyes, the corner of his lips lifted in a crooked smile. “We’ve got _things_ to do.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the next chapter is going to be so much fun to write.


End file.
